I now pronounce you husband and wife
by FallenAngelItachi
Summary: Saito Hajime, Shinsegumi, third squad leader in 1868;policeman for the Meiji goverment since November 1877;crude snarkish guy who always has to be right and knows everything; married to Tokio Takagi, owner of the Takagi ryokan. Wait who? Who is she-what sort of person can stand him? She must be the Buddha...! Or worse than him. Wanna find out?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N**: This is going to be a story about Saito and his wife Tokio. How they met, how they came to be wed etc etc. I kept some things from history, I followed the manga but this is all nothing but my humble opinions and views on that enigmatic figure and how must she be like to attract/stand/be attracted to Saito. It will be a short one, about eight chapters max, no matter the size - lol - and it'll be somewhat fragmented on purpose. If anyone asks why I'm publishing this though I'm already delaying chapters in my other story...then be informed I lack conviction and motivation. But I swear, I'm writing as much as I can.

I do not own any of the characters from or even Rurouni Kenshin the manga.

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The dark sky revealed no stars, as if they were all gone for some mystic reason. The heat of a summer breeze was nothing but a distant memory and only cold, chilling gusts remained in its place, worse than the autumn airs. And nothing in this narrow alley, with no lamps or any other source of light, made him feel welcome. Still, he had to walk the streets; it was an imperative, if he ever wanted to reach his destination, no matter how foreboding everything felt: from the absence of usual sounds to the existence of out of season bugs.

He huffed; he needed a drink. He, Hajime Saito, third squad leader of the Shinsegumi, was on his first undercover mission. He didn't find it particularly challenging; he knew not to underestimate the enemy so blending in as an ishin shishi would not be a big deal so long you remembered their ridiculous ideas and dogmas. Even changing out of his usual Shinsegumi uniform and putting on a simple hitatare with a blue haori and a grey hakama he felt like a different person. Also, that uniform was so engraved into his character by now, he literally felt he couldn't recognise himself so quite possibly few people would do, too.

He put his hands in his sleeves, trying to both warm himself and look bigger. All he had to do was show up at the Takagi ryokan, on the west side of Kyoto and play the good loyalist membe—

An ear-splitting scream broke the silence of the night! Without realising, his fingers had already curled around the hilt of his sword while his body was slumped forward, towards the direction of the shout. A moment later he straightened again, calmer and ready to solve this problem.

_A woman's scream_, he assessed immediately. _She's being attacked by a person, most possibly a man, and even more possibly the one who's been terrorising this area lately. The perpetrator – if he be the same – has already raped nine women and killed two making a grand total of eleven punishable actions. Is he adding to his crimes?_

His feet carried him while his brain did the thinking for him; meanwhile some more, muffled sounds of struggle could be heard and he took all of those in at the same time…especially the moment when the fighting stopped. The implications were enough to shallow his breath and grind his teeth. He might have been going as fast as he could, but it wasn't fast enough and it may have well cost a person their life!

Just as he made the final turn to reach his new destination, a dagger flew past his face! It lodged on the wall behind him, two metres away. He'd reacted out of instinct by grabbing his sword yet out of experience, he knew it was too far away so he did nothing in the end. He just looked at it as he came to the dim light: it was ornate with carvings on its hilt and vibrant colours while small designs covered the blade…a woman's preference.

"Don't you dare take another step, villain!"

_What did she call me?_

His predictions were correct: he happed upon two of them. One was an unconscious woman with her black long hair dishevelled and free from their band. Her colourful kimono was somewhat undone – he could see some of her skin – , consistent with a victim of rape or attempted rape. The second was the one who'd thrown the knife. She was relatively tall for a woman, standing at 1,65 and her stance was defensive, one hand clutching another beautiful dagger in front of her face. Her bangs framed it but the rest were up on a ponytail, though messy now. Her kimono had dark colours, blending in with the colours of the night.

"Or what? You'll miss me with more of those daggers?" Even though he baited her, he didn't take another step forward—he could see there had been trouble and the still standing woman looked sort of menacing. Still, his reply was enough for her face distort in an unforgiving snarl.

"Or I'll actually _aim _for you, next time I throw this."

"Oh, is that how you call it?"

Her frustration apparent, she took a deep breath; he hadn't cared before but now he realised the rasp quality of her voice wasn't due to shock or anything, it was her own. "Show me the inside of your left arm now or face the consequences—another one of these." She would have no rejections, or else she'd pounce!

"That is…an odd request. But if it makes you put that dagger down, I can do it."

Unceremoniously, he took the sleeve off and showed her what she asked; for the first time, she didn't act on instinct and started thinking. And if his guesses were right again, then he figured the one on the ground was attacked and the one standing protected her. If she were equipped with weapons, it made sense, especially since she knew how to hold them for maximum damage to the assailant.

"I came here because I heard a scream, coming from her I guess," he pointed to the unconscious woman "and I thought I should help. But I see you have this under control, so I shall—" The woman lost interest in him the moment he started explaining; in a surprising turn of events, she turned around and ran! "—take my leave."

Shaking his head, he went right after her, though he wasted a second or two to make sure the woman on the ground was alive, decent and hidden.

"What are you doing—don't follow me! Take her to the Shinsegumi or something!"

"I'm not your valley; the only reason I'm following you anyway is because I believe you know where her attacker went."

"Why would you believe that?"

"You requested to see my bare arm; you were either _with_ or closer_ to_ the woman and managed to see the attacker and fended him off. I doubt she managed to drive him away, and judging by her state I should guess she didn't do much talking, too. Thus, you saw him, scared him away and saw where he's headed."

"…" She ran next to him for a long time without saying anything. "You're annoyingly right; but it's a long story—I'll tell you once I have him!"

"Heh," he chuckled and allowed her to lead him. _Spirited person, isn't she?_

It didn't take long for them to switch places; her guidance was excellent and soon enough they were close enough for Saito to spot him by listening. The manhunt was coming to an end second by second; he looked to his right to warn the woman away and maybe direct her back to the fainted one but she'd just turned left jumping over a short wooden fence! Without missing a beat he took the next left too and wound up in another dimly lit alley. It led to a dead-end but that wasn't the amazing thing here. What truly amazed him was the cry from a man five metres away! He was brought to his knees, as red dripped down his stomach and her hand.

"What? You don't like it when people do it to you," the woman snapped sadistically as she turned the knife while still inside him?

_This is getting out of hand_; he thought bitterly as the realisation he wouldn't be making his first appearance as an ishin shishi tonight hit him. At least he was building a good profile for his later appearance: helping women, catching criminals, badmouthing the Shinsegumi for lack of proper policing…this ordeal had its perks. But its risks also; he should step in and stop her from inflicting any more damage on the man, or she might kill him.

She relished his cries of pain as she pulled the knife out of him and let him fall, watching his every move like a hawk. On all fours now, the pale haemorrhaging man tried to crawl away. "Have a safe trip to hell, asshole."

In the blink of an eye, there _he_ was, holding her hand from dealing a decisive blow. "What do you think you're doing? Let go of my hand!" She shouted, emotions getting the better of her. Her cheeks were flushed and there were veins popping out of her neck.

"You don't want to kill this man," he said calmly.

"I do; let go of me."

"Let me rephrase. You don't want the consequences that come with killing this man."

There was a pregnant pause of stares and gnashing, her feelings not abating. "I said let go of me." Another pause. "Very well." Her free hand delved into layers of fabric and came up with yet another dagger…which he stopped again. "What in Buddha's name is wrong with you? Let me do as I please!"

By now, he was certain she did the opposite of what he suggested just so she'd do the opposite. "I can't do that yet. Put the knives away first."

"Don't tell me what to do and let me go; besides, why are you protecting him? He deserves to die!"

"Yes he does. And for a person who doesn't like to be told what to do you sure are quick to give orders and do as you please…"

He was holding both of her wrists from behind; he was taller so it was easy for him, but entirely uncomfortable for her. He wasn't causing pain to her either, he just stopped her hands. And he was in the right, technically, but she didn't want her pride to suffer and do as he commanded so she couldn't let the daggers fall; but truth is, her rage calmed, and she didn't want to kill the man any longer…just hurt, **hurt**, _hurt_ him. She clenched her teeth; her knuckles became whiter for squeezing the daggers so much.

"Steady," he advised.

And suddenly, she kicked the man on the ground! Using his unrelenting grip for more momentum, she jumped, knowing he'll hold on to her; both her feet landed with viciousness and hatred onto the man's belly, pushing out even more blood! The secret Shinsegumi just stood there looking at her.

"Very well," she said in the end "I didn't kill him." He let her go. As if a fire went out that same second, she forgot all about the two men, or at least pretended to and tried to run in the opposite direction. Yet once more she was stopped by Saito's hand on her wrist and she just wanted to punch him in his smug little face…!

"And here I thought you wanted to get him to the Shinsegumi," he commented, pointing at the now unconscious man at his feet.

In response, she pursed her lips and looked at him with the edge of her eyes. "I'll do that, too but she comes first."

"So you were going to the victim. Is she a friend of yours? And what is up with this whole ordeal?" She looked at him offended for even thinking she would just share personal information for no reason. "Explain."

"Don't tell me what to do-!" she caught herself from shouting any further, clenching her fist, and looked up at the tall man. "Just pick the swine up and let's go to Reika – yes that's the name of the victim – and then to the police station."

"So you do know the victim; how? And why exactly were you there, _armed_, waiting to catch this person?" When Saito was looking for the "swine's" hands and feet, he discretely pulled up his left sleeve; the wound of a dagger was there. Now he was certain.

"Reika-chan is in my employment. She fell victim to this monster," she really snarled just at mentioning him, giving a curt nod "not a week ago. Tonight, we figured _we_'d go hunting, lay in wait to ambush him. I've been going at it alone the past two weeks, but I had no luck finding him. I figured I just wasn't his type. When…Reika-chan was attacked she said she felt worthless for not resisting. You see the ones who resisted weren't raped—just killed. And she really didn't want to die. So in order to cleanse herself, she said she'd help me. And sure enough, a day after she decided to join me, he strikes again."

She spit on the ground.

"I finally managed to capture him…instead of killing him. Because of you."

"How can anyone be in your employment—are you some sort of madam in the red light district?"

He could have murdered her whole family _and_ her pet, yet the indignation and pure shock that was reflected in her eyes in this moment wouldn't be nearly as strong. "I beg your pardon! I am the proud heir and owner of the west Kyoto ryokan, Takagi Tokio! I do not provide those sorts of services to the people, mostly men undoubtedly, that visit my establishment."

Feeling a smirk reaching his lips, he coughed to cover it; not only was this woman delightfully prudent and easy to poke fun at, she was also the owner of the place he wanted to reach. Nothing could go smoother. "I'm surprised you didn't slap me yet, to be honest."

"Feel better at the thought of me wanting to."

"Oh, this is us;" he said so casually it drove her mad "I hid your friend so no one would take advantage of her. She's in here," he nodded at a dark small spacing between two houses. She saw her friend propped against the wood and was about to snap, but there was an element of care in her placement; she refrained.

"Reika-chan…Reika-chan can you hear me? It's me, Tokio."

Her eyes began to open; disoriented, she started looking around. "Tokio…sama? Is it all over?" Reika's voice was soft and sweet. It reminded him of red natto beans, if they were a voice.

"Yes, we caught the animal. We're handing him over to the Shinsegumi right after we leave here. Would you prefer we drop you off to the inn first?"

"…no, please take me with you. But who are the "we" you're talking about?"

Saito came into view, with his usual soft smile, the one he wore around everyone. He took a small bow, just enough not to worry her. Seeing the perpetrator of the terrible crimes on his shoulders, like a sack of potatoes, she felt a little better inside. She returned the smile, weak but grateful. "What is your name sir?"

Seeing Reika was preoccupied with the man, Tokio went to collect her knife, lodged into the wall.

"Fujita Goro," he gave the fake name he had made up for this mission; first time using it, too "glad to be of service."

Tokio rolled her eyes purposefully slower and way more emphatically than Reika had ever seen her do before as she put her hands on her hips just as exaggeratedly. "Can we go now please, _Fujita-san_?"

The trip to the police station was an uneventful one. It had to do with the passive attitude she kept all the while, for the sake of her employee, and the odd polite way he too behaved in favour of the victim. Both were cordial though a little witty and both knew when to throw a fake smile to blow over some argument that was about to start.

When they finally reached the place where the station was, they relieved them of their "cargo" and immediately requested to speak to the victim first, while the two of them would wait.

"No, Tokio-sama is very capable and kind! She keeps us all safe, away from the streets, and all of that all on her own. She stands up to powerful people and factions just by her sheer will power and individual strength. She is a magnificent person," Reika wrapped up some sort of argument.

She bowed to both separately and followed a man in a room.

"And an unmarried one, too I realise," he picked up from where the woman had left off, a smirk replacing his polite grin "how brave of you to remain unwed in these turbulent times and rely on your own abilities."

She thundered him; if she were an element, she would be the sea with her high tides, he mused entertained.

"I am twenty one years of age and I am of means; I see no reason to be tied down by an entitled boy who thinks he's a man while trying to take over my own business from me, under some ridiculous pretext that he owns whatever I own, too and certainly he could do it better despite having none of my experience."

"It sounds like you talk _from_ experience…but I understand; you don't like to be told what to do. It's only normal for a woman with your way of thinking to be a spinster."

"Excuse me?!"

"Oh, I don't judge; I happen to be unwed myself…though_ I_ am a twenty three year old man, so it is no big matter for me, spinster-girl."

If looks could kill he'd be dead ten times over. "I am a useful member of the society with purpose and drive. I see no reason it should be a big matter for me, too."

"I agree; I'm only saying others might not…spinster-girl."

The sound she made mustn't have been human! That hissing and bearing of teeth, he was sure he'd seen it on some animal or another…yet with all his comebacks and his smarts he was at a loss of how to respond to her. So he just laughed. He laughed till he couldn't throw his head back anymore and his stomach felt sore.

"You're odd, spinster-girl but what's odder is that you are also going to be my land lady. You see, my destination before I reached you was the Takagi ryokan. I suppose we will have plenty of time to sort out our misunderstandings there."

"Oh, ho, ho believe me there's nothing to sort out. Though I won't deny you stay you're nothing but a tenant and that's that."

With conviction, she raised herself from the western chair they had at the waiting room and located herself at least three metres to the left. Distinctively looking the other way, she stared outside the window, waiting patiently for Reika to come out and then her turn…which sadly was after Saito's. "I guess we'll all be returning together then," he half-teased, half-announced and followed the officer into the same room Reika had gone into.

The moment the door closed behind him though, the Shinsegumi man fretted. "Hajime-san why are you involved in this? Is your cover identity blown already?"

"Ah no, I just had to help; there was an issue with a rapist, as you informed me when I arrived yesterday. It wasn't my intention to capture him, but it happened too close. I would not ignore this."

"Of course, sir; but could you give us a detailed recount of what happened while the girl was unconscious?"

"I heard a very loud scream and ran towards the danger; more sounds of struggle issued but then they suddenly stopped. I was worried the victim might have died but when I arrived at the scene I saw a woman protecting another that had fainted. She thought I was the assailant as it was dark and I match him in height and weight so she asked me to identify myself by revealing my left hand. I wasn't the one who attacked her friend so she immediately went towards the direction the assailant had taken.

When we reached him, she fought him; she managed to deal a blow with her knife and then she kicked him for good measure. He was out cold so I carried him here, after we went to pick up the victim, too.

They are both from the Takagi ryokan—the one who stabbed him, Takagi Tokio, is the owner, while the other, Reika, an employee. She was prowling the streets to stop him, but he eluded her, till the second fell victim. Wanting to avenge herself and save potential victims, she joined Takagi Tokio in her search and finally found him.

Have we identified him yet?"

"His name is Daigoro Heisuke; he's the son of a big fish here in Kyoto. But this one will go down without a hitch because he's notorious! Everywhere there's a poster of notice or warning about his crimes, he won't get away with it."

"Very well; I take my leave now. You don't have to question Takagi Tokio. I have to go to the ryokan as soon as possible."

This woman threw a dagger at him, threatened to do it again, ignored his suggestions and nearly _murdered_ a man yet he said none of these things to his subordinate. He even went as far as to basically order him not to question her under the false pretence of having to be at her ryokan the sooner the better though he had perfectly accepted the reality of not going there tonight at some point.

And all of that because he found her interesting and fun; he didn't regret his decision but suddenly he was wondering. No matter what, he let none of it show and found himself in the waiting room; the moment they appeared, Tokio stood. She was holding Reika's hand till now, relentlessly. "I am ready to-."

"There will be no need ma'am, as mister Fujita gave us a full account of your actions. We are very lucky he wasn't killed by accident during your fight or else you might have faced some charges and we wouldn't be able to make the arrest public." She turned scarlet to that. "But thank you for your help."

They all bowed in their respectful ways and made to leave.

But Tokio knew there was something wrong in this picture. What about her deposition on what had transpired prior to this man showing up? How did they know how she located the rapist? What sort of power did Fujita Goro have for his word to be this well-trusted? Why didn't he mention any of the attempted murders on that guy when he was so adamant about it? Why was he so adamant about it, when it looked like he too wanted that bastard dead?

She kept stealing glances at him, wondering all the while. Though pleased she wouldn't get mixed up with the law and her name remained spotless and glad this was over with the best outcome possible, she couldn't help but be suspicious.

"So uncharacteristic of you not to speak a word, Tokio-sama," the soft voice of Reika pulled her out of her thoughts. Concern coloured it but it was as discreet as her. "Is something the matter?"

"Ah, no, I am just overthinking I guess." She gave a smile she was ashamed to show but she couldn't help it. But what struck her the most was Fujita's reaction: he caught on to her putting up appearances, as if she were a book to read even when Reika failed to notice the deceit.

"What could be so important that rendered you of all people speechless, spinster-girl?"

She tried not to be too upset, chanting mantras mentally. "Nothing that should concern you," she snubbed the man though it was nothing but lies "or worry you Reika-chan," she continued like the previous line wasn't uttered with absolute forbiddance and spite. "Shall we go on in silence from my part without it consisting as a topic of discussion?"

Saito's smirk grew. "Who can say no to such a request? You must be truly troubled to wish no part in making small talk."

Her jaw did a thing where it tightened for just a second and then it was gone by her swallowing, as if her own words. With great displeasure and no small amount of self-control, she kept walking. Genuinely entertained, he made no further attempt to soil her mood.

The rest of the way there, she made no attempts to join the conversation but she kept a very sharp eye on all of his responses and mannerisms. There was something about the way he talked and acted; she couldn't quite put her finger on it. It was obvious he was capable of great sarcasm and uncivil tongue yet whenever he was directed anywhere else other than her, he was the model of goodwill and kindness. He was too dubious. She didn't know if he should be allowed in her ryokan or not after all. Even if he would never deny him entrance and stay, that didn't stop her from keeping an eye out.

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**A/N**: I love Saito! Please review and/or message me your opinions~!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N**: I really am on a roll with this story. It just wouldn't get out of my head till I wrote it. UGH.

Thank you those who reviewed/followed. It means a lot.

And I realised that I haven't given properly the dates. EDIT:This is 1867 and Saito is 23; I'd made a mistake trusting the wrong source that said he was 36 in the manga. But I have kept the real fact that his wife Tokio was two years younger than him. So that would make her 21, sorry again~

And like always, I do not own RuroKen or its characters. I just admire the man who does.

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"Fujita-san."

"Spinster-girl."

They bowed at the same time. Good thing he was so tall and no head-clashing occurred because they were _that_ close. They happened to run into each other in the hall but she didn't see him till she almost bumped into him.

Holding trays in her hands, she headed towards the kitchen to leave the crockery to be washed; he was emerging from one of the rooms that existed solely for the entertainment of the guests and he was holding his sword in his hand. He'd seen her immediately but purposefully waited to see when she'd catch wind of it. They even had similar run-ins previously—the sole reason she hadn't chewed him out for his name-calling. What is there to tell that she hasn't already?

"Need any help with those?"

"Empty trays with bowls and chopsticks; my, oh my, how am I ever going to do it without your help? How did I ever do it before?"

A smirk came to his lips but didn't speak until she was already attempting to leave. "Let me rephrase that; want some help with those?"

"No thank you, Fujita-san; you just go back to doing…whatever you do while you're here."

She might have refused his help but he was no idiot; he could see her struggle with the weight of the many trays. He could even detect her _really hard to mask_ imbalance at her every step, try as she might. It was decided by now: whenever she saw him, no matter what she was doing, she'd puff up her chest or make her face seem less caring and even go as far as inflict some form of pain on herself in order not to look in need of his assistance. Why? She didn't really like him.

And that conclusion was drawn from the observation of a mere five days he's been there.

That was too bad; he actually liked her. In fact, he thought she was priceless with her airs and her upturned nose whenever any person who claimed she didn't do her job well was involved; male or female—"Fujita" or not. He'd been in the presence of such a person once: he was teasing her, per usual, when a woman came in and harassed her about how her husband had put up here to meet his lover and how she was doing a terrible job at keeping this place pure "just like her father always did". Oh ho ho, was she pissed! She was wound up from him just a moment ago, when that poor woman made her allegation, she tore her apart!

Despite her best wishes to be left alone, though, this current moment Saito was in a desperate need of a distraction and she was the best one this place had to offer. He was prisoner of that room for hours and the loyalists did nothing but talk smack about the Shinsegumi, revere in their leaders' smarts and predict that they will be told to do great things in the future.

As unbelievable as it was, it all started grating on his nerves, even for a man so driven like himself.

"I'd like to help you anyway. I can even pretend it was you who made me do it and complain to the girls when we get to the kitchen."

A chuckle she couldn't reign in was released! His comment was too sudden and too true. After all, one could call her many things, but humourless or unable to laugh at her own flaws she wasn't. But she hated when lines like these were uttered from the likes of him! He definitely saw this as a personal victory: he made her laugh, so all of his insulting today was forgiven…but it wasn't! Yet her amused snort just made him think so. And now she had to give in because she acknowledged his intentions.

"Very well; you can take half of them."

He grabbed the four out of seven and even the very top one with all the stacked crockery. He was being a gentleman was he; the proper man, the samurai, like he and his friends make themselves out to be…

But she knew better. She didn't like their sort, but she had told herself she wouldn't deny entrance to any person so long they needed a place of refuge. Till now, these men were persecuted for their beliefs; they also pay well. No matter who, though, or how much money they give, if they start hurting other people, they are out of there. Immediately.

So what was a man like Fujita Goro doing with them? He was smart, he'd already proven that. He was also skilled; he may have thought she didn't notice but there was no shortage of times she saw him reach for his sword when someone – like her – entered the room first and _then _announced their arrival. Also, he helped with the capture of a rapist and murderer; he was a man of action.

That is of course, till he came here. None of it made sense; it was all so contradictory to her assessment of the people he joined. Were his ideals really the same and were they enough to make him spend time with such laid-back, different people?

"Again you grow quite, Tokio. How come that happens only when you are in my presence?"

"You mistake me for someone who's loose-tongued maybe, so your observation alerts you. Or maybe you mistake me with another Tokio, since you address me so casually."

"You really think badly of me, don't you?"

His frankness stopped her in her tracks, just as she was about to slide open the door which led to the kitchen; she finally looked at him when he wouldn't let this question go – kept staring holes at the back of her skull, the rude git – straight in the eyes. She was searching for something, a hint of deceit or humour in his voice, that would justify a less thoughtful answer from her, but she found none. He was unguarded and…demanding. He wanted to know the truth.

"I do…and I don't. It's not that simple," was all she said before sliding the door open and walking in, hopefully before he could reply. When she saw she was successful a small relief came over her.

The kitchen was the iconic ryokan kitchen, all pristine and neat, with rows and rows of crockery lining the shelves. The food was in containers or being cooked and noting was in surplus. There was a special place for the chadogu and other tea related activities. And of course, standing at different places, doing different things, were three middle-aged women.

"Tokio-sama," one of the threm scolded her "how many times have I told you not to carry these things on your own?"

"That's why she has me slaving after her," Saito joked and promptly followed her inside. "See? She even gave me all these bowls to juggle; I kept telling her I'm a swordsman, not a waiter. She won't listen."

The polite laughs filled the space, made it warmer than a second ago. Certainly, it became less awkward for them, too. With steady yet purposefully much more cautious steps, as if he couldn't navigate himself properly, he proceeded to dump the trays where he saw her do it.

"For a person who does this for the first time, you have quite a strong grip, Goro-kun," the second woman teased. "You best even our boss and she's a natural."

"I think you still consider me a child, worrying about what I carry and how I do it," Tokio finally spoke, feeling confident enough she will handle whatever Fujita throws her way "because you've seen me grow. Maybe you should see me as I am now and not ten years ago."

"Ha ha," the first let out a booming laugh "that was such a happy time! You should have seen our lady then, Fujita-kun, only a small girl; thinking our cherry tree was a yokai!"

A blush came to Tokio's cheeks under the sudden attention—and for such a story, too! Especially at the way the man's eyes lit up; she would never live it down.

"I thought it was a dragon," she corrected "and it made some sense at the time, seeing the shape it had; of course, I later realised there is no such thing as magic and dragons. But it was fun while it lasted. We shall leave you to your duties," her voice went from warm to professional in seconds; she gave a deep bow though, as if to compensate for the curtness and led Fujita outside, who of course didn't loiter around.

"Goodbye ladies."

"Goodbye Goro-kun/Fujita-kun."

The silence that ensued between the two was stifling.

The worst thing was that he didn't stop trailing after her. With his sharp eyes ever watchful of her every move, he took in her movements and gestures, even the slightest twitch of her shoulders. He was waiting to jab at her for the previous revelations…and he was a patient man. He loved seeing her get exceedingly nervous as she was always so proper and reserved, despite her speaking her mind always.

"A dragon, spinster-girl?"

"It was the shape of the cherry tree!" She was practised at giving the certain reply if her time of response was any indication "And I thought it was a sleeping dragon that transformed into it, that is all."

"But why a dragon in particular?"

"I was reading a book about them, so naturally I started seeing them everywhere. I always did that—still do that."

"And what are you reading now?"

"…nothing," she replied with an unprecedented melancholy; he thought it strange she was so honest in front of him "I don't have the time, the past few months."

"Is the ryokan taking too much of your time?"

"These last few months, yes; but it _is_ only natural. Like any other business, we have our downs. But we've had our fair share of ups, too so I do not complain."

"You are very grateful," he observed, causing her to look back at him. All of her efforts to remain at least two steps ahead were foiled by her own curiosity so easily; she should practise some more self-resect. "You are also too honest to lie to me so please tell me why do you think badly of me, at whatever extent you do?"

Damn it, she had just had to be looking at him! And how smart of him to use this chance to address their problem, when she couldn't look away from his eyes no matter how much she wanted it. If she did, she'd admit she lost; she _had_ to say something first. _Why is his gaze so intense even when it's so casual_, she complained inwardly? But she didn't allow the blush dusting her face to stop her from talking; she opened her mouth.

"You…are very quick to react to everything. That night" she didn't even have to specify which one, he knew exactly when she was talking about "you reached us too soon after the scream was heard.

And I can see how you unconsciously tense every time someone surprises you; always going for your sword, no matter if in the end you stop before you touch it. Still, it's always there, right where your good hand rests, never out of reach. You are a skilled swordsman, those honed reflexes don't lie."

"My, my; you must have spent quite a lot of time looking at me to notice all that." He could watch her disoriented speechlessness all day.

"N-no! Don't misunderstand," she managed to string together in the end! "I noticed it once when I walked in unannounced and ever since I've been doing it on purpose just so I can be sure it wasn't a one-time thing. And it isn't. I'm-I'm not for any sort of reason interested in you or, or something similar."

"Yes you are; you are specifically interested in whether I really was that good or not." She was really a sight for sore eyes with all her indignation and shame. "Why?"

_And how could you pay attention to such a thing_ his mind supplemented, but never allowed his lips to say. The people he was spying on and were supposed to be skilled didn't notice that; he even thought he had it under control. Either the one he was truly supposed to keep an eye on was this person right here in front of him or she was just…observant. He really hoped it was the second; he'd hate to see she was on the side of the shishi. Then again, she was giving them shelter, why would she do that if not on their side? Um…that was a question for another time. Right now, he had to make sure no prying ears were listening in on their conversation.

Of course he didn't miss the colour changes she went through, too: from pink to red to scarlet to purple! This, this right there was his reason of not wanting her to be involved with the loyalist faction.

"I, I am not particularly…! I mean, you came to help us that night, so your heart is in the right place; you knew if I killed him it would create problems so you stopped me and spared me the trouble. You're a good person. But then there's the problem of your personality – though I admit, coming from me it sounds hypocritical – so I never really thanked you."

They'd recommenced walking by now, and he was carefully leading her away from rooms and doors and took an exit for the open part of the garden. "I was…um looking for an opportune moment but then I noticed you did that with your sword and I just pursued my latest fancy and I…I kept thinking of reasons to postpone thanking you I suppose—but what I found out was true, you really are too good with that sword. It's odd that you'd hang around these people."

"_These people_?"

"You know, the samurai; they are a lazy lot, bragging about things others did and basking in their victories, considering them their own because of some ridiculous concept of…camaraderie. They've been in here for some time now, nearing three months, and I don't think they've ever gone outside for anything else other than personal entertainment.

But you're different; you were chasing after a criminal for no other reason that you felt you had a moral obligation to and later stayed my hand for the same reason. And then there's the whole issue with not reporting me to the police!"

He couldn't help but look around the moment those words escaped her lips, after the burning sensation to silence her was supressed. She was trudging dangerous waters with those statements. They wouldn't be otherwise suspicious had he told the shishi about it from the get-go, but he kept putting it off, simply mentioning the Shinsegumi as useless. In the end he never really said it. Ever. Just like her and her thanks to him.

So if they heard he had any sort of involvement with the police especially by accident, it would be a big problem for him. He could actually hear his heartbeat quicken at the thought. After all, he was supposed to penetrate their team, not their bellies.

"Fujita-san…" He finally looked at her again; noticing his uneasiness, she decided to suggest "would you like to continue at a more suitable place? You seem to worry."

"I do," he admitted surprised; "I do prefer we talked about this somewhere more privately, if you also don't mind."

"Of course, please follow me."

She wanted to stop this talk from happening not two minutes ago, but it appeared as though he was willing to have a _real_ talk with her and maybe answer some of her more pressing questions—her inherent curiosity was piqued yet again! She shouldn't waste this opportunity: she back-tracked, entering the building and led him through the hall.

He didn't know if she was doing it on purpose or not, but he was almost – almost mind you – lost, by the winding path she chose to tread. She went left then left then left again and then took two rights; she continued taking the right once more before she took two lefts and then went straight for almost forty seconds. She finally stopped in front of a door, too small to be used by a guest, and slid it open.

"Here," she whispered and burrowed inside like a mouse.

He couldn't remember any instance when she was being so secretive before; a thrilling sensation ran down his spine and without even knowing, there was a smile on his lips again. He followed inside the dark room, closing the door behind him…immersing it in absolute darkness. Wow, he didn't expect that there'd be no source of artificial or natural light – moonlight at this time –; somehow everything felt all the more secret.

Also, he could feel fabric on his right and as he extended his left arm there were wooden slim beams…brooms maybe? He dared not reach in front of him, certain some part of the girl would be a there to greet him because it was that small a space. He could feel it because his own breath warmed him; the stacked things surrounded him; and her shuffling was less than three feet away.

No reasonable space to speak of, towels probably on his right, brooms on his left, lack of light—they were in a closet. As his eyes adjusted he could see the outline of her silhouette, fidgeting or looking for something. His hesitant smile broke into a full blown smirk now. How…exciting. He hadn't done anything similar since he was too young to remember now.

"This is the supply room," she explained casually, as if she weren't in there, stuffed with him "my maids use it to conduct their love affairs from time to time; it's remote and has only one access point, the one we used to enter, which is easy to monitor. And it's not known to the guests—all but you. It's ideal; so let's talk."

"…you brought me to the cabin where your maids conduct their affairs. Interesting…" She harrumphed, but he could practically feel the warmth of her blush radiating off from her; he chuckled. "You were saying."

"Why didn't you report that I tried to kill him? And how come you've been removed from every single mention of the incident I've heard since, even from the ones coming from the Shinsegumi? And how come they trust you so much to take your word for the incident thus not wishing to question me? And if all those do apply then why _in earth_ would you come here to these-…?"

She stopped so suddenly, she gave him whiplash; then, an unwarranted silence prevailed between them, tense but somehow comfortable. "Oh," was the next thing that came out of her mouth, a short, lame sound; he became suspicious. "Oooh," she drawled comprehensively and now he was more that anxious to what would follow. "Alright. I understand." How could she not? In fact, how come she didn't see it till now?

"What is it…you understand?" She couldn't possibly mean what he feared she meant, right? He was just paranoid, right?

"I…"

She hesitated; there was no one listening at the door, right? "I think…" what if she was wrong? She was confident he wouldn't do anything as ridiculous as try and kill her, even if he did have his sword with him, but she'd have said something idiotic and he'd _know_. No, no; what is she thinking? She was certainly right.

She swallowed once and leaned forward; he mimicked her. She tensed. She looked at the door one final time before whispered into his ear:"_you are a spy, aren't you? A spy for the Shinsegumi._"

The moment passed. Suddenly she started wondering if that was really his ear. The lack of light wasn't helping. On second thought, maybe she shouldn't have bent so forward just to tell him this big secret because she was almost touching him! Her heart was beating faster but she couldn't tell if it was the inappropriate proximity or the secrecy. Even without seeing him, which enraged her even more, looking at him made her flutter—what was up with this man? She officially concluded she hated him.

"Don't say such ridiculous things," he said and sounded completely unaffected. "Are you sure you aren't just reading up on the Shinsegumi and now see them everywhere?"

Goddamn it! Her plan had backfired: she wanted the darkness to be a shield for her but now she couldn't see his expression at all. "Don't try and blame this on me with something you found out not ten minutes ago! And if not that, then what is your justification, **Fujita-san**? Huh! If that is your real name."

"Of course it is, are you an idiot? And it's not my fault I'm trustworthy and they just believed me."

"Oh yeah sure; a complete stranger out of nowhere came in and told them all about a rapist and they just took his word? The Shinsegumi—that Shinsegumi? I don't think so. But even if they were so gullible, which they aren't, then tell me again the reason they won't mention you in the incident? They won't be losing face—they lost all they could when they admitted two untrained women did their job for them. If anything, it'd better their image to have said a very skilful swordsman apprehended him and brought him while the assailant attacked a couple of women." She paused to give him time to talk. When he didn't, she pressed. "Well?"

"Don't overthink things," he spewed another one-liner and turned to the door; she realised when light peeked in from the hall—she immediately slapped his hand down.

She did what?

"Answer me."

He still couldn't wrap his head around it. It was very funny though; he tried his best to hide his good mood. "No."

He wasn't testy in his answer, but she took no chances to try and physically stop him again. "Why," she merely asked, demanding a response.

He only shrugged. "Because."

It was more annoying he wouldn't get riled up than shouting! At her wit's end when he opened the door even more, she huffed audibly and crossed her arms. "It's not like I'll go announcing it to people; and I don't like the shishi in my ryokan as well," she complained like a wrongfully chastised child.

To that he stopped. Finally she could see some emotion on his face, other than amusement on her expense or apathy: curiosity. "Then why are you offering shelter to them?"

"They came bleeding at my door; I couldn't turn them away. I called the family doctor and he said they'd make it…if they rested. I didn't want to be responsible for the death of random strangers so I allowed them to rest here."

That made sense and it was in accordance with her character, he considered.

"But the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months before I even realised; and now they are fine and they even invited friends over but they won't leave and I can't throw them out. I have no real reason to, other than I don't like them, since they pay well. And I don't feel comfortable evicting them for that."

She stopped for a long moment, confused. "Wait; why am I justifying myself to you?"

_Oops she noticed._

Like she just had an epiphany though, she said: "I know why! It's because you're a _cop._"

She mouthed the last word and looked at him victorious. In return, he tried not to smile at her exorbitantly accomplished look. "Now if you'll excuse me, Fujita-san, I have many things to do and I'd hate it if anyone misunderstood us being in here."

Preening like a peacock, she strutted out of the room before he did, even pushing him to the side to do so. She flipped her tied in a loose ponytail hair and only after her bangs settled into place did she continue moving. She gave him a last meaningful look over her shoulder and walked away with the grace of ten geishas.

He just stood there, looking at her; his expression read amused, but he was stricken. How? How could she see all of these so easily? He crossed his hands. How could she stand there and unravel him? It was…it was rare. And it was interesting. He frowned. She was an intelligent woman; no wonder she was still unmarried. Maybe he should stop teasing her about that. Meh, maybe not; it was way too entertaining to see her scrunched up face when he called her spinster.

He just stood there, looking at nothing. She was gone now and nothing but her discreet perfume remained in the hall to remind him she'd been there; enough to track her down if he wanted to, it was too indicative. But he didn't. She won that round. She figured him out alarmingly well and he didn't want to think of anything else other than her intellect and sweet conquering smile. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He really, really liked her. Too bad she wasn't feeling the same.

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**A/N**: Hoped you liked it; if you did but thought something was wrong please tell me; if you didn't like it at all frop by to tell me your objections. Sooo I guess I'm saying leave a review as you go~!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Sweet Mary mother of god. I haven't stopped writing a single day. This piece really gets my muse going and what's best, gives me inspiration for the other stories, too. So this is what it feels like to get over writer's block. I am so happy.

Now, in this chapter there's a fair bit of history entrewined with the plot and that's anything that refers to the Ikedaya affair. The rest are mine. Also, if anyone is wondering, I have put the Shinsegumi headquarters permanently in Kyoto but members go wherever they are needed which is why Saito was not in Kyoto for a long time and had but one day that he returned in the first chapter.

To those who reviewed faved/alerted, thank you for your kind words; to those I couldn't reply for technical reasons, you should know you really make my day!

This is where I put the disclaimer that I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or its characters; I only own the concept of how Tokio is in this story and all non-existing in the manga/anime characters.

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Two weeks had gone by in a blur. His progress with the loyalist faction, the shishi, was significant: he'd spewed a lot of nonsense, bad-mouthed his own squad and some of his friends, even had to perform with his sword to prove his worth to them, but in the end he was deemed trustworthy; they let him in, in very important meetings. The truth of the matter was that the shishi were preparing a comeback; not two years ago, they were driven to a corner and neared annihilation. Now, they wished to return to Kyoto and recapture their former glory—which was no trivial glory. At the Ikedaya affair, they almost burnt Kyoto to the ground. Almost being the operative word, as Hijikata Toushijou, the demon vice-chief, captured a key member of the loyalists, Shuntaro Furutaka and launched a successful attack to stop their plans.

He respected the vice chief, maybe more than their leader, Kondo Isami. He had his own ways of inspiring fear and getting things done, even without actually doing all the horrible things people thought he did—just thinking something that painful could be done to them, more than just a few blenched. Hijikata was an excellent interrogator after all.

Saitou though wasn't an interrogator; he was an infiltrator. He had to get the information without hurting or extorting the enemy, quite the opposite. He never thought it would be so vexing though, not being able to cut them down. Just listening to them, made him want to snap something in half. He knew not all of the loyalists were like these, but Buddha help him, they were ranked amongst the worst people he had ever met—all but one, who was very mysterious and withdrawn. But he'd never even talk! The rest were so bad they tested his resolve on a daily basis; he figured he should also thank them for increasing his tolerance and patience though.

Truth be told, it wasn't all him that got him through each day; for every torturing hour he spent with those dim-witted men, he spent one minute with her. She was his little ray of sunshine in a grim world. Her curt gestures, her deep voice and her meaningful glances; he could watch her all day. He especially loved the way she would grimace when he called her the usual by now pet name while also noting how accustomed she had become to it. Admittedly, had he not been on this straining mission he'd never have been so focused on this woman – he was bordering obsession –, yet he couldn't help but think he was somehow supposed to meet her.

She must have had a different opinion though; she was more than troubled for their chance meeting and even more improbable continued acquaintance. As if managing the ryokan, keeping an eye on the employees and policing the guests weren't enough, she now had a real policeman there, whose secret she had to protect. Ugh, she hated these convoluted schemes.

Couldn't he just arrest them? They didn't look important enough. It's the inconspicuous that do the most damage though; she knew that. She just couldn't stand it! Fujita Goro, if that was even his real name, was a most infuriating man. But what was worse about him? He would stir…all sorts of emotions within her. And she wasn't sure they were all negative. After all, the thrill of knowing such a big secret, the notion she could be of help or some use to something bigger than herself—it excited her! Other than her own ethics, that was the very reason she set out to capture a killer and a rapist all by herself. It was partly her father's fault, too, for teaching her all those ideals and self-defence techniques.

Of course, ever since the "big reveal" as Saito had dubbed the incident when she found out his true identity in his mind, she was even more defiant.

"_Fujita-san,_" she would greet him politely, but there was an underlying note there hiding behind her smile. She was daring him to speak up – it was more than obvious how her tone aggravated him – challenging him to reveal his true name. Not in front of others, naturally, but maybe tell her privately; maybe when he was done calling her names and feeling better about himself, maybe he could show some unexpected courtesy and tell her his real name.

But that never happened.

For some reason, that incensed her. She had proven herself trustworthy when she told absolutely no one about him; she'd kept her mouth shut throughout all the instances when he practically infuriated her while sitting directly across from the men that he was spying on. Apparently, he didn't appreciate her efforts.

Oh she knew she was being childish just by thinking of all these, but that was just it! Somehow communicating with this man alone, made her selfishness and sense of entitlement grow. That was an unfamiliar path for her; never before had she felt so compelled to know a person's personal information and matters, but there comes policeman Fujita Goro and she just has to know everything – of course, if one asks Reika-chan, she would say she was more than used to knowing everything about someone; it's just that none other had ever said "no" to her before -.

But what good did that do to her nerves now, as she was returning to the ryokan from the market? She had a good mood just ten minutes ago! And she was carrying all those things: tofu, fish, rice, pork and fresh vegetables; she was always cranky when she was carrying things. Ugh, she didn't even know why she was the one doing it. She should have made the men-! Sounds of shouting from the left distracted her from her thoughts; she tried to locate the direction. But she didn't take too logn because soon enough the ruckus reached her:

"-one stop that kid! You hear me—stop him! He stole from me!"

A man was running after someone - the wallet(?) thief - who remained unseen because the crowd was big and the child was short; he made use of his stature and hid well in the sea of strangers. It would be difficult to track him…but she started looking anyway. Not only was she herself an excellent target for a pick-pocketing but also, stealing was illegal and she frowned upon such behaviours. Besides, if she were correct, she knew the perpetrator of said illegal act, and he was no criminal mastermind.

It didn't take too long—there was a boy, no older than ten, that ran frantically away from the man who kept coming closer and closer. His hair were long and unkempt, a matted mess of dark brown. His skin colour was too white and the boy too pale; he must have been ill. Her heart clenched. Those big brown eyes of his usually staring back at her, were now looking everywhere for a way out of this mess. And then they spotted her! Wider did they become in recognition, and he ran towards her with all the strength he had. The moment he arrived next to her, a hand reached out and grabbed the collar of his hitatare! He dropped a basket; his unhealthily thin limbs started thrashing about fighting for freedom. Apples, onions and rice fell to her feet as both boy and man started arguing and shouting at each other profanities.

"I'll take you straight to the brig-!"

"That won't be necessary, sir; there is your basket," she looked at her feet "and I can compensate you for all the things you lost because of him. Just put him down gently."

"What are you, his mother? It doesn't concern you, go away."

"Well, just a moment ago you were screaming for someone to help you; it's only reasonable to interfere now that he needs help, too. Besides, I'm helping you as well: I'm willing to pay you back for everything. I only ask you put him down and leave after you've been reimbursed."

"Brats like him litter the streets by the dozens; I let him go now and he'll be doing the same tomorrow."

"He won't; will you Takeru?"

Both adults looked at the boy expectantly; he pouted. "He puts me down and I'll promise not to." The response was deemed pacifying; the man did as the woman had asked. "I won't steal again, I promise," he muttered under his breath, his hands crossed in front of his chest.

As she took a better look at him, she noticed his hakama was dirty and frayed around the edges; even some of his hair seemed to have fallen off. She gave him a very reprimanding look; Takeru averted his eyes. "You heard him sir, he won't be bothering you again. Here's your money."

She handed some, more than enough to make up for his losses; it was a shameless bribe to never speak of this again and put it all behind him. He, in turn, when he saw the amount he was given, took them wordlessly, bowed and walked away. She waited till he was completely gone and only then did she turn to the boy, looking thunderous.

"Takeru! What are you doing, stealing from people just to eat? We've discussed this! If you're hungry, you come to me."

"But your place is fancy…and I don't like going there. Besides when I have to take my shoes off I get it all dirty, too and you always shouted at me for dirty feet."

Her chuckle was soft, meant to show Takeru she wasn't trying to make fun of him. "We have great cleaning stuff; and I'm the owner and I no longer mind. If I don't mind, neither should you. Come now, let's go home and I'll treat you to anything you want."

He was hesitant; he didn't dare raise his head, just his eyes. "Really?"

"Of course! So long we have it it's yours; and don't worry, we have lots of different food—the customers like the frequent changes in menu."

He finally smiled. "Thank you, nee-chan."

She smiled back, behind all the shopping bags she carried. "You're welcome."

.

.

It took twenty minutes to reach the ryokan; she didn't burden the kid, who looked way too frail, but she had to stop every now and then to catch her breath. The good thing was the chill of the weather; despite the exercise she didn't perspire too much. Though she did complain a lot, about everything: how the sun was getting in her eyes; how her hair was sticking to her face; how her hands felt sore from the bags…

"No wonder you're still unmarried; you're insatiable in your whining."

She felt empty inside. Really? It had to be _him_? They'd barely reached the inn but there he was! What did he do, wait at the door for her to show?

"How fortunate you are **not** my husband and _you_ _don't have to_ listen to me."

She was resting on one of the small benches of the garden; the trip to the kitchen was longer than any other, as the entrance and their destination were on the two opposite ends—at least 100 metres, not necessarily in a straight line. Feeling annoyed just by his presence, she immediately stood and picked up her packets. The kid tried to help her by taking one, but she politely prevented him with: "no Takeru, I'll do it; you just follow me."

"Takeru?" Saito had noticed the brat that followed her but had no idea he was invited in; he figured he just snuck inside and she was complaining to herself. "So the tail has a name," he observed; they noticed he tied his sword on his sash as he approached. "How sweet."

As if his remarks were meant to distract, and without even asking, he relieved her from most of her load. She said nothing to oppose him though; she simply quickened her pace to set the path. If that's how he wanted to make it up to her, all the insulting and the pocking fun at, fine by her. She'd earned an extra worker for free.

"You know my name but I don't know yours; that's not fair," the kid snubbed; usually, Tokio would scold him for his manners, but he knew she'd let this one slip by, since she didn't like the man either.

"Humph," she snorted "welcome to the club." A mixture of caution, warning and irritation were reflected in his eyes when he looked at her; it satisfied her so much, she decided to be annoying on purpose. "_Fujita-san_ is always acting mysterious and secretive and like he knows everything," she continued like the best gossip in town "but he's only acting that way so he can _make you_ tell him everything. He's sly like that, you-."

"I'm Fujita Goro," he interrupted, pointedly looking at the kid "I'm a guest here, so she's supposed to be nice to me but I think she missed that directive. Who are you?"

The sudden attention made him blush and look away. "I'm Takeru Ken; I'm, I'm sometimes a guest here, too…"

"Oh? I bet you pay much less than I do." He paused for a moment to make it look like he had a point. "I believe the price range is inversely proportional to how much she likes you." She rolled her eyes but the child seemed like someone had just explained the universe to him. "So how much do you pay?"

All the while, Takeru kept stealing glances at the tall man, who carried all the shopping as if they were nothing, when Tokio clearly had a difficult time. He was both impressed and ashamed all under a second. "I…I don't really…she makes me promise things instead, like I'll eat properly, I'll keep warm; I'll return if there's trouble or-or I won't steal again…"

"Steal? Are you a thief?"

There was a calm quality to his voice that riled her! "Of course he's not! He took a basket because he was starving; that hardly puts him on the most wanted list."

"I asked him, not you; tell me, are you a thief Takeru?"

The boy had grown defensive, naturally, but the shame was even more apparent. "N-no! I'm not! I'm not a thief."

"But you stole something."

"Tha-that's…I, I had to! But I'm not a thief, I only did it once!"

"If you do it once it's a mistake; if you do it twice it's a habit. So be careful not to do it again."

"I won't do it again, I promised already! Besides, it's not like I had a choice; I was really hungry, I was starving…"

He was parroting Tokio's words and argument; he _knew_ he was going to do that. Not just because he was young and impressionable but also because she was on his side; also, the boy liked her. So he knew exactly what to say. "We always have a choice: do the right thing, or the wrong thing. We all know what is right and wrong, too; after all, you wouldn't run if you didn't know what you did was bad."

"How do you know he-?"

Tokio was ignored by both male specimens as the older one kept talking. "If you didn't want to steal then you shouldn't have; no one forced you to. You took that basket on your own because your desire for food overrode your desire to do the right thing. But _you_ made that choice. Don't blame it on luck or anything else. If she told you to come to her when you're hungry but you chose not to and instead decided to take someone else's food then, who else is there to blame?"

Takeru was tearing up, sniffing his nose; he'd latched onto Tokio's foot and tried very hard to protect himself from all the reproaches but Fujita was giving him no quarter. She felt so sorry for him! Her own desire to hug him and tell him "it's okay" was strong, but she never went through with it.

"And don't hide behind others; if you're a man then you should take responsibility. Besides, mistakes make a man who he is, but only when he learns from them…" he shifted all the weight to his good hand, the left, and stood right next to the boy "…idiot."

He hit his head once, more like a pat really, and suddenly the boy stopped snivelling. There was something so…familial in that gesture and his tone that it calmed Takeru down. Of course, it also had to do with the fact Fujita never raised his voice or sounded anything but stating universal truths; there was no real accusation in his voice no matter what was said.

She stared.

She stared so long, she fell behind. Takeru even started walking next to the man now, wiping at his eyes – hoping no one noticed, but they both did – but she just couldn't get over it. She had spent so much time thinking to herself how she would make Takeru understand what he did was wrong and that he shouldn't do it again, without hurting his pride or calling him a thief. And here mister policeman comes in doing that exact same thing without being asked or struggling how to do it—it came naturally to him.

Those were some envy-worthy child-rearing skills. _She_ envied them at least.

"What are you looking at, spinster girl," his demanding voice derailed her thoughts? "Keep up."

She pouted as she reddened. "Hmmm, I'm coming; you don't have to tell me!"

For some reason, they stayed together; even at the kitchen, after Fujita dropped everything off and he was supposed to no longer be needed, he remained; while Takeru was eating the meal he asked for and Tokio was lecturing him about everything she could – the state of his clothes, his tangled hair, his haggard body – he lingered, watching her chew the boy out. Even after she sent the boy off, advising him to stay at the "usual" room, Fujita didn't leave. He just stood there, watching her wash the dishes.

It was unnerving.

"Fujita-san," she started in an attempt to satisfy her curiosity while relieving the tension "do you have any younger brothers?"

"No, I'm an only child. Well, I would be if my parents were still alive."

"Oh…then, um, did you ever have—do you have a child? I mean, you said you were unmarried but accidents happen."

"No," he replied once again, though now more interested than before; he knew she was going somewhere with this, but he'd just assumed she wanted information. Now it was getting way more specific. "Why?"

She really wanted to say "no reason" and be done with it, but she was actually too eager to know.

"You were surprisingly good with Takeru; like you had experience talking to children like that, and lots of it. I mean, I've been trying to teach him responsibility and all of those things you said to him, for months now! I knew it was how I did it that couldn't get him to listen, but you just did it in a matter of seconds. That, that's hurtful."

She turned to look at him. "So how did you do it?"

A crooked but honest smile spread to his face. "I am an excellent judge of character." He stopped there on purpose, just to see how she'd react. When she puckered her lips, demanding the real answer, he chuckled. "Also, I didn't coddle him nor thought how he'd react to what I said. I just told him what I believed exactly how I believed it and my candidness reached him."

Her head tilted to the side, her messy ponytail following the course; she studied him for a long time—she reminded him of a curious dog. "You are always candid, aren't you? All those things you say and I think you're teasing or being mean—it's just your opinion."

She thought he was being dishonest with her all this time? No wonder she didn't like him. "Yes."

"Huh," she did and returned to her washing; "a professional liar who can't help but speak his true mind. Is that a perk, giving you credibility or a drawback since you can't hide your true views and emotions well?"

He looked at her for the longest of times; her observation drilled into his mind, eventually numbing it. Then he just watched her hands work the crockery in and out of water, rubbing with soap and scouring; the sleeves of her bright blue and pink kimono were carefully folded to avoid getting wet; fingers reached up and tucked loose strands of hair behind her ears. Her hair ended up with a little bit of soap at the ends, turning their colour white while more and more strands were released from the ribbon…

For the first time in his life, he wished those reaching fingers were his; for the first time in his life, he longed to take one end of her ribbon and unravel it, make her hair fall on her shoulders; for the first time in his life, he wanted to touch those dirtied ends and play. And for the first time in his life, he could pin point the exact moment his attraction to a woman took shape and a name: domesticity.

He suddenly had the overwhelming urge to hug her middle; he caught himself only when he realised he was but three steps away from her. He didn't allow his utter bafflement to show through, though and simply leaned against the wooden wall. "It's both, for the exact reasons you mentioned. Of course, I do my best to tip the scale towards the first."

His proximity did not alarm her; she hadn't heard him walk there – _wow, he must be a very talented spy_ – but somehow, no matter where or when they ran into each other, they were always physically close. It was one of those things she was conflicted about, because she didn't mind it, despite all the proper manners instilled from her father screaming at her to scream at him for being so close. Instead, she was actually…comfortable.

She hated how she didn't hate that.

"That is great to hear; I'd be sad to come clean your room and find you dead in it one of these days."

"I'd be sad to have you come _clean my room_ while I can't say anything about it, no matter the reason." They shared a small but genuine laugh. "So who is the kid? Why are you putting him up?"

"Takeru was the son of two of my most favourite customers, the Ken couple; they came here often, mostly on business trips and sometimes they would bring him along. During one of their visits that Takeru was with them, too, a year ago give or take, they decided to go out at a restaurant; bad timing and horrible luck combined. That same night, the restaurant was attacked by unidentified men and was set on fire…trapping all of the staff and customers inside, condemning everyone."

He remembered that incident; none had survived. It was rumoured the shishi did it as retaliation they never managed to burn down Kyoto during the Ikedaya affair, but to this day no one accepted responsibility and in fact the leads were pointing towards the direction of the Tokugawa. No matter what, many crisped bodies were found between the rubble and that smell was something he wanted to forget yet knew he never would.

"His parents gone, he was left alone to fend for himself. I took him in immediately but he didn't stay longer than a consecutive month. He came and went after that, till he managed to raise enough money to travel back to his hometown by charities from the residents here.

Of course he wouldn't listen to me when I told him all of their estate will have been one way or another taken – I had the suspicion their lawyer was a weasel; he still went, though…and found out for himself. There was nothing left for him there, so he came back. I thank Buddha for that every day. At least here I can keep an eye on him. But ever since he came back, he's been coming and going inconsistently. Hopefully, now he'll stay for good…or at least a while till he can learn a craft or some other skill."

She stopped her washing to heave a deep sigh, not unlike a mother. "But that is all I can do; hope," she commented bleakly before going back to her activity.

He hummed annoyingly long as he stood straight, even closer than before, and put his hands in his sleeves. "I think I just figured one more reason you decide to stay single: you already have a child. And before you say anything, I know for a fact that many women marry for the sake of procreation."

She didn't have time to roll her eyes at his persistence on the subject of her marital status because what he said she actually thought it sweet; she smiled warmly at him. "Thank you for saying that; not many people think my interest in him is genuine or important."

"…you're welcome."

He felt something tight across his chest, constricting his breath for a moment. The way she smiled at him caught him by surprise—to show such kindness and goodwill to him was unheard of; when it was directed at the boy, he thought it was a beautiful display. But when she looked at him that way…it was rare. In that small moment, the moment his heart did that thing that he had only associated with great successes in his work just by seeing her, he knew.

He was falling in love. The sad part was she was indifferent.

=:=:=:=

"_Fujita-san_," she called him, once again using that tone of disbelief only he could catch and made him cringe "do you mind stepping to the side?"

He smirked. "I don't."

"Then why won't you?"

He fought not to smirk wider. "I wasn't asked."

Her effort to control her nerves was visible in the way she closed her eyes firmly and squeezed her wrist with her hand. "Can you please step aside?"

"Sure," he relented and did as she wanted. Her clearly forced, exasperated smile was his reward and he really enjoyed his reward. But then they came along and he couldn't amuse himself anymore.

"Fujita, we have a meeting; follow us in the other room."

He had just exited the first of the guest's entertainment room which she entered to clean and put in order, seeing it was occupied by him and some other unrelated people. The "other" room was the one at the far end of the hall that only the shishi were allowed to use, as they paid a large sum of money for that privilege. It was private, none bordered with it, and it was big; it was ideal for their purposes. Certainly, the room he had found himself in with Tokio was much more secure, but thankfully they knew nothing about that.

As the four of the five, and he, walked down the hall, the mysterious, silent one – called Yato – said to him out of the blue: "I see you were engaging the owner again; Takagi Tokio, if memory serves."

"That's correct; that is her name."

Another – Nagato – joined in immediately! "You've been looking her way awfully lot recently; might this be the blooming of a romance?"

"I doubt that; even if I were interested in her, I doubt she has any interest in me."

The third one, called Takatsuki chuckled and said: "ooh, is this the bitterness of rejection we hear?"

"It's the taste of reality, nothing more."

"Don't despair my friend; though not as intense as your gaze, I see her looking at you with some tension. Maybe not all is lost in that cause; you should pursue something," Yato advised with incredible wisdom, found only in the most experienced of men.

"Huh!" Keito, the fourth one. "She's a nice piece; you'd be more than lucky to snag her! I've heard many tried and failed."

Nagato snorted. "Do you mean yourself by any chance?"

"Of course not; I'd never try anything with her! See the stern brow on her face? She's way too serious for me. No, no I prefer the maids; that's the kind of man that I am."

"You mean that's the kind of loser you are."

"Oh shut up Takatsuki; as if you're better."

"At least maids aren't where I set the bar."

He stopped listening right about there; if he was upset there was only one reason: Yato took the time to tell him something like that. Any of the others had he said the same thing, he wouldn't think anything of it. But this comment, the "guy talk" thing, wasn't Yato's style. And if he went out of his way just to let him know he's noticed and approves of his interest in Tokio, it may in fact forebode something bad for her—either because they intend to do something to her or the exact opposite. He started worrying; maybe he shouldn't have been so casual about showing his attraction for the woman. Without realising, he caused her unnecessary trouble. His smile was wide but his fear bigger. He walked into that room with nothing but bad signs.

The meeting itself left him with bad news: a large number of loyalists were planning to return to Kyoto through Osaka. They would arrive at the port in a month from now. And that was all the information given to them. Apparently each and every shishi was to receive this information so they could start preparing for the upcoming attack on the Shinsegumi. Because, why else would more than fifty shishi come at the same place at the same night, clothed, fed and armed?

He had to send word about this. He had to let his colleagues know the exact day and time of this upcoming raid. He had to send it at least two weeks early or else they might not be able to gather the necessary manpower, as quietly as they should – if they didn't want to give him away –. So he had to leave the establishment. But there has never been an instance he'd ever done it before. If he did now, right after this important meeting, well, no matter how stupid most of them were even they'd get it. What if they didn't know he'd left though? They'd never suspect him. So he just had to find a way to leave unnoticed and return before they realised his absence!

Right…that _sounded_ hard; he couldn't imagine how difficult it truly would be to do so.

"_Fujita-san_, you look distracted."

There was Tokio, wandering the halls with Reika right behind her. The second woman flushed a little but smiled, giving a polite bow; nothing that would indicate they somehow knew each other. He suspected that was Tokio's doing, even from before she found out his secret; she was too protective and too controlling to allow Reika to be alone with or serve men so soon after she was attacked.

"Coming from you, I consider it to be an insult."

She giggled, knowing he is joking. "By all means, no; I point it out merely because it's so rare to see you like this. You're always concentrated on something."

"We all have our days, I guess."

She slowed her pace to match his, leaving Reika to lead the way. They weren't going towards his direction though; she just randomly decided to follow him, thus leaving poor Reika in a pinch about where she was supposed to lead them to. She figured the baths were as good a place as any.

"Would you care to share your troubles?"

"…" he looked at her, suddenly making a realisation: she was the one that came to him. He hadn't even seen her when she made the turn—ok, he may have seen her, but he never acknowledged her. She was the one who made the effort. He felt so much better just like that. Heh, the heart was a peculiar organ—such great control over the human body _and_ psyche. "I wish I could, but I can't."

"Ah, I see; is there any way I can help?"

"…you already did. Thank you."

She seemed a little lost. "No, I meant practically—is there anything I can _do _to help you?"

He was tempted. He wouldn't lie, for the briefest of moments, he was so tempted. He would write it, give it to her and she'd make sure the Shinsegumi got it. Nice and easy. It was no secret she had dealings with them, how much more after the whole affair with the rapist. It would be safe and it would be convenient.

An image flashed in his mind's eye; it was Tokio, she was in her room. She looked like she was sleeping, but her eyes were open; she rested on her tatami, lying in a pool of her own blood with her throat slit! Next to her, Yato was cleaning his blade completely disinterested…

He blanched.

"Fujita-san!" If Tokio sounded so worried, he couldn't look well. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, quite; why do you ask?"

"The colour suddenly drained from your face; what is it? Did you remember something unpleasant?"

"Something like that; don't worry. It passed."

He never ever wanted to see that happen. He always went through worst case scenarios in his head before doing anything and he'd seen himself dead in various ways. He hadn't minded. But this was something that crippled him emotionally in less than two seconds and he had no intention to let it come true! He wasn't in that much of urgency anyway; he was sure he could devise some scheme or another to slip away for a couple of hours without being noticed and he wouldn't need to enlist anyone's help. She should be safe. And he would wait for a whole week if he had to, to make sure he could do it on his own, without her involvement.

She was looking at him bemused this whole time; he was so private. He kept asking her about personal things or uneasy topics yet he wouldn't reveal anything. The mettle of a true spy, no doubt, but that certainly made things harder. She didn't suppose he'd change now though. So she gave up on trying making him talk and decided to do something else. "Forgive my indiscretion; you appeared very upset, that is all. I suggest you use the bath to calm yourself. Isn't that where we're going anyway, Reika-chan?"

"Yes, Tokio-sama," she admitted with a guilty smile.

"There, fate; or timing, call it what you will. Have a relaxing bath and all of the answers will come to you. I know it helps _me_ a lot."

Was she honestly trying to make him feel better? She kept surprising him this day. "I'll take your advice then. Are there clean towels in the bath?"

"Of course; you can go right now in fact and all you'll need is there. Just make sure to leave anything you used at the changing room on your way out."

He nodded; she nodded back.

For the rest of the way, they all walked in complete silence. Reika-chan glanced at the pair behind her, or the walls and the ceiling; why was no one saying anything? For the first time they didn't argue about something so instead of keep up civil conversation they just remain silent? Why? Did they fear if they kept talking eventually they would fight? _Oh wait, that is actually possible_, the young woman thought and decided not to feel so awkward. They were awkward enough.

Though not really; as novel as it was, neither felt the need to break the silence for there was no discomfort between them. Just this once, they were both friendly and social so even this stretch of quietness felt natural. He didn't know if it was a fluke, but he appreciated the fact that when he needed to focus, she gave him that chance. Maybe she was more intuitive than he gave her credit for. That was an admirable quality in a woman, he deduced, and one he'd definitely prefer over, let's say, obedience. _Huh. How strange_. _Suddenly my standards of a suitable woman start reflecting her._

When they arrived at their destination, he bowed and immediately went into the bath, without saying a word; the two women looked at each other. "I think Fujita-sama is indeed having a bad day. I wonder if we could have helped in any other way."

"Don't fret Reika-chan; I'm sure he'd have let us know if there was anything we could do." She pushed the girl away from the door gently, almost hugging her in the process; Reika feared to leave him alone. And Tokio was no simpleton. There was something going on with the shishi, something bad would happen maybe and he was concerned; that much she understood. But if he said she couldn't help, she believed him. "I think we did best by leaving him to his thoughts."

Her immediate worries dissolved, Reika allowed Tokio to remove her; then, they returned to the task they set out to do from the beginning and meet with the crew responsible for keeping the garden green, clean and beautiful.

* * *

**A/N**: Saito has many things on his mind, you know? He's a busy guy. I feel so sorry for him on one hand but on the other I really like torturing characters, mine or not. Anyway, development! And plot; more of it coming next chapter which apparently is gonna be sooner for some reason since the more I write the less it takes. Whatever brain.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N**: Hello, hello again! Like I said, this story writes itself, I swear. I'm just allowing it to use me, I'm the conduit.

Also, the bits of historical trivia are true; I dug into Japanese history quite a bit! At least the late Tokugawa period and early Meiji. Apparently, during the Boshin war which not only _ended_ (formally on June, 1869) in a disaster for the shogunate but went so bad it was deemed futile after July 1868 for most of Japan, except for the Aizu clan - known for its prowess in battle-; September 1868 the Meiji were formally restored and their period begins. It ended July 1912.

Also, a big warm thank you to all those who reviewed! You keep my motivation so high and running, it's ridiculous.

And no, I do not own RuroKen or its characters etc etc.

* * *

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He had not thought this through as much as he should, he hadn't; if he did, then he wouldn't be in this predicament. It wasn't as if he hadn't gone through all of the scenarios in his head, like always – he'd spent a whole week working on the details since he'd found out – , but somehow during the execution of his plan, all that could go wrong did!

That night, for the most idiotic reason ever, they decided they should all sleep in joining bedrooms. The timing couldn't be worse even if they read his mind. Though that put a relative stop to the plan, he realised he could not afford to wait a day longer. He had had to risk it. So he chose the one with an exit—six rooms, two doors leading outside

But again, something didn't go his way: when he was sneaking out, he heard one more of them walk the halls; he eavesdropped for a while and realised the man had gone to the bathroom. In itself that wasn't a problem, but the fact Nagato was the one who woke up. If he wanted to go outside, the nearest exit was in Saito's room; and he certainly didn't find Saito sleeping as he should.

Adding to the list of things that could go horribly wrong, while on his way to the Shinsegumi headquarters, instead of finding a patrol of his fellow policemen, he ran into loyalists! They were discussing in the shadows, keeping an eye out for anything. With them around, how could he come to light himself? He had to remain unseen. He side-stepped them by taking a route two roads longer, but that caused him to lose even more time than he should. And he knew Nagato wouldn't sleep till he returned.

He was up to two hours outside hiding, when he finally found the first patrol he could present himself to without any suspicions being aroused. Seeing the way to the headquarters was blocked by all sorts of people that could have relations with the men staying at the Takagi ryokan, he could do nothing but wait for the Shinsegumi to come to him. They were men under Okita's command; they should know him. He approached more than carefully and handed a note. The man in the middle nodded in a conspirator's fashion; seconds later they'd gone their separate ways.

Now that was settled, the problem of how to get back unnoticed remained; though not more, they weren't that less either, the filth on the streets. How could these people wander so freely? He'd found no evidence of duelling between swordsmen so the shishi had managed to avoid the Shinsegumi…but how? There were enough patrols. He entertained the thought of a mole inside the police, but he knew there was no way that was true, or even if it was, that wasn't the problem here. Even by chance, they would have met. That only meant the shishi went out of their way to be imperceptible.

Saito was exasperated, but realised the only reason he even saw these people was because he was sneaking around, too. The rest of the Shinsegumi weren't; they walked around proud but there for all to see or hear. He should have a talk about that with the rest of the squad leaders when he was finished with this.

Storing it to the back of his mind for now, he swapped it with more pressing matters: like how he was going to get inside his room without blowing his cover wide open. Entering the ryokan would be easy; it was impossible to keep an eye on the main entrance, or any sort of entrance from where they were situated currently. And he got to know Nagato these three weeks: he was the type who wouldn't deploy others, but try to solve things on his own, which meant he wouldn't wake up anyone, but he'd patiently wait at the door for him to come back.

So he made a list of things he needed to do and which ones were feasible. He had to sneak in the ryokan; he had to go to his room and appear natural; he had to convince Nagato he wasn't doing anything suspicious. He could certainly do the first but the rest not really…he had to make a new list. So, he had to sneak into the ryokan; easy. He had to convince Nagato he wasn't up to anything suspicious. Looking at the horizon, the sun started peeking over the mountains. He had lost his window—soon enough they'd all be up. So, he had to stay away from his room and find them at a sensible time _and then_ convince all of them he wasn't doing anything wrong.

That could happen. He simply needed to make it look like he was at the ryokan even if he wasn't in one of their joined rooms. But how? It had to be something in accordance with his character; it had to be something that wouldn't rouse any suspicions. Something they could easily believe and make him, if possible, even more likeable to completely wipe out the negative feelings—nothing like a pleasant surprise to counter the bitterness of possible betrayal. He thought hard for a long moment; and then the solution presented itself so naturally, he could kick himself for not thinking it immediately!

As he was waiting at the entrance, he looked around from behind it; with its tall, stone walls, it was impossible to be seen. He eavesdropped but heard nothing. Always following the way the shadows were cast on the ground, he snuck inside. The room he was looking for was removed from any other place in the whole inn. Also, one could walk the halls of that part of the inn safely because none other than a couple of people roamed around. But he chose another route: instead of risking even that one percent chance – which tonight seemed more than enough to make something happen – he took the safest option: get in from the outside.

He spotted it: the room was somehow higher than any other even though the ryokan was built on equal ground. It had a wide window but also a curtain to prevent peeking inside. He saw the curtain dancing to the wind, an idle but steady movement. And then he realised: the window was open! Was his luck finally turning around?

With swift motions, he found himself crouching directly underneath that big open window; he took a look inside. All was normal and nothing hindered his entrance; fighting a smirk, he grabbed on to the frame. Putting all of his strength in his legs, he sprang off the ground! In through the curtain and hop, over the frame, he landed on his own two feet on the wooden floors, after he rolled twice to ensure he made no sound. Hmm; this room was bigger than he'd thought; he'd never been in here before, never even dared to walk the halls outside it. He'd only stamped it from afar.

Why?

Because this was the personal bedroom of the owner; Takagi Tokio was currently lying not one metre away from him. He spent a long moment doing nothing but looking at her. She hadn't heard a thing and she was sound asleep, covered up to her chin, though one hand was sprawled away from the warmth of the blanket. Though covered, her feet were very un-lady like spread while there was a slight snoring coming from her.

He tried really hard not to laugh at the contrast of this picture with her usual image.

The next thing he had to do was wake her up; she had to be in the know. He approached soundlessly but put more weight in his each step, in an effort to make the shockwaves somehow wake her - he didn't want her screaming bloody murder - . He even started making noise. But no, nothing woke her. That woman slept heavier than an entire Shinsegumi squad!

He pinched the bridge of his nose. How odd that this was the first time he was annoyed with her and it wasn't even her fault. He shook his head but decided on a more direct approach: he crouched low enough for his hands to reach her and started rocking her. His other hand was ready to cover her mouth at the smallest sound, though he hoped he wouldn't have to scare her like that.

"Tokio." Nothing. "Tokio, wake up." There was some reaction…but then she just turned on her side. "Come now Tokio, wake up."

Rocking her harder each time, he almost pushed her! Only then did the woman showed some signs of comprehension. "Lemme sleep, will you? The inn doesn't open for a while…"

"Tokio, it's an emergency." She just shrugged his hand away. "Just wake up spinster-girl!"

The nickname did the trick: she spurred into action, both turning his way and sitting up in one sudden move. She stared at him with eyes wide open, mirroring her emotions: reprimand yet disbelief.

"…_why_" she inquired emphatically? "Just, just why?"

"I need a place to hide."

She blanked. "Explain that."

"I slipped out tonight to deliver a message to the Shinsegumi; they weren't supposed to and I was hoping they wouldn't notice, but I _know_ they did and it will cause major problems when I return…unless I can actually account for my whereabouts."

Her eyes shone with understanding. "Oh, I see; by claiming you were with me, you have an alibi but also score more points with them, give them something to root for. You turn the whole situation around to your benefit instead of being exposed."

"Indeed," he assured with pride "and I won't have to end my surveillance here or give them the opportunity to change their plans. That way they won't blindside the Shinsegumi and we may actually turn this whole thing around."

"Turn what thing around?"

He looked at her grimly but when he spoke there wasn't a single hint of worry. "Things may be as they are in Kyoto, but all around it and Edo, the ishin gain more supporters and resources by the day. I was stationed in Hofu, capital of the Suo province just before I came back here; that is right next to the Chousu province, one of the nests of the loyalists. Out there, things are very bad for us.  
But this is the capital; if we manage to hold them off just a little longer, it could be crucial to the outcome of the whole war."

She looked awestruck. "When you speak of such things you look very cosmopolitan…and knowledgeable. It's very different from how you usually are."

Was that a comliment or an insult? It was hard to decide. "It's just experience."

"That makes it better yet much worse at the same time; just what sort of trouble have you been into?"

"Not important; will you help me or not?"

"Oh yeah, since you aren't in my room already," snapped she, rolling her eyes. "Regardless, it was a good choice to come here." She suddenly stopped. "Wait a minute. If you pretend you slept with me…it completely soils my reputation. Huh. I never really had given any thought to that before. Well, reputation versus life loses, but still. You wound me."

"I'm sorry; I know I'm asking a lot. But I also know you'll do whatever you can. That's why I came here on the first place. So thank you anyway."

She tried not to feel flattered but failed; essentially, he was calling her reliable and that was the biggest compliment this man could give to anyone…and she somehow knew that. And she felt proud.

"You're welcome," she stammered, looking away, suddenly bashful. "Okay, if we're going to go through with this it has to be perfect: take...off your clothes…as much as you can without being naked, and spread them around the room."

"I am a neat person."

"…" She tried really hard not to sass him. "Fold them carefully and put them at the bedside then!"

"Alright;" he agreed quickly and started untying his hakama "what's the story? How did you let me in?"

"Um…I am known for my massage therapies; I am very good at that, in fact. I wanted to do it professionally but I inherited the ryokan, so I gave it up. But if someone truly needs it, I accept to help them. You can say one of the old people who are guests here told you. Though that brings us to the question of why?"

"Why? What why?"

"Why would the old people tell you? And why would you spend the night with _me_ particularly, won't it seem odd?"

Ah, of course. He'd taken it for granted, but she had no idea, ahd she? After all, if she thought he was just being mean to her, how could she suspect he was actually interested in her. And now was probably the worst time in the world to reveal it, so he refrained. Well, he didn't plan to do it before this whole mess with the shishi was cleared anyway. He chose to play it cool.

"Not at all; the men think I have formed an attachment to you." As her hand was sliding the window, it stopped moving halfway; she looked at him. She didn't know if she should feel insulted at the lack of emotion in his voice or relieved. "You know my secret, so I tend to look, keep an eye on you. They misinterpret it as interest; I let them because it's convenient."

"Ooh, so you let them believe you're interested in me to make them think you're governed by emotion thus making them feel superior in some way, while in fact you calculatingly both keep an eye on me and strengthen your cover identity." She paused. "That is cunning."

"I am very pleased you seem to understand my plans."

"They are not that hard to figure out."

"Yes they are. If not, I'd be dead in some ditch by now with more than ten people joining me who in fact are still alive."

She was looking in her closet to find another headrest but his comment made her stop and look at him for the second time. "Have you been in circumstances really that dangerous?"

His crooked smirk returned, bigger than usual, making his face look more angled. "If they weren't, I wouldn't even bother; and no one would come to me for help."

Was he…?

No.

Was he? Was he enjoying this? He wasn't, was he?

She looked at him and saw his meticulous movements—no form of panic, only pride etched on his face at the words he spoke. He is asked only for the dangerous missions…because he is that good; because they trust him to pull through. And of course, there's the element of danger, the thrill of the chase, the excitement of the game of cat and mouse. Oh dear, he _was_ enjoying this. He loved it, every minute of it, every minute on the job.

She felt small suddenly and very…rustic, like a country bumpkin. He had all these first-hand experiences of amazing and dangerous tales; no wonder he loved his job. It offered him a kick nothing else could: risking his life every day, knowing it may be his last. And she just existed there, at her inn, worrying about the colour of the kitchen like that was all there was. No wonder he would speak his mind so easily, poke fun at her and keep mentioning how she's still unmarried. It was so insignificant, it was funny! And oh how asinine must it all look to him.

She felt like crying. But she didn't allow it to show.

She took the headrest out and an old nightgown her mother used to wear—a married woman's nightgown; she started undressing but then she realised she was going to actually undress in front of him. Her cheeks betrayed her mental state; she turned to say "look away" and keep like that till she said otherwise, but then she was caught off guard by _his_ nakedness. He was wearing – loosely might she add – just his hakama; but it wasn't the impropriety itself that made her stare but what it revealed:

Wounds.

Some of them were still healing, covered in something akin to home-made balm; the rest, which was the most, were already healed. But what positively frightened her was the fact his whole body was riddled with them! His upper arms, his torso, especially the area of his ribs on both sides - though his chest wasn't spared -, they all had lines-lines-lines of marred flesh...! So that was the price he paid for doing what he loved.

She felt like crying again.

"I know I'm an attractive man but please stop _just_ looking at me; we need to hurry."

She changed so many colours he didn't know how she was ever going to decide to pick one again. She gave him the most offended look in the history of mankind…! When he saw her hands on her robe though, he finally understood she must have wanted to slip into something different and looking at her wasn't helping. He turned around.

"So what should I do now?"

"Just lie on the bed and tuck in; I'll join you shortly."

He didn't turn but her comment tempted him to, just to make sure she wasn't messing with him. "Seriously?"

"Well how else will it be believable? You want your operation to succeed or not?" When he didn't reply, she took it as agreement. "Besides, it's barely six o'clock, the sun hasn't come up yet; I'm sleepy.  
You can look now."

She then came closer, the blush never fading, but certainly decreasing. Modest yet uncertain, like she was afraid to lie in her own bed because something would try and eat her, she took steps to get under the covers. He had turned on his side, his hand supporting his head, facing her. "I'm not a deviant; I didn't do this with any sort of ulterior motive. Just lie down, you'll be safe." For good measure, he hid his smile as he lay on his back.

"I, I know! It's just I've never slept in the same room with another man before, how much more the same bed. It's new."

That revelation didn't surprise him one bit. "Well, if all you do is sleep like we're about to, it's pretty much the same with if I were a woman. Just close your eyes and let your tiredness do the rest."

"Right…" she settled in, careful not to brush shoulders with him accidentally. "I suppose you are correct. You seem to know of such things." Timidly, like a child, she pulled the covers up to her neck.

"I seem to know many things this night," he teased; she forgot all about her prudence for a moment and looked at him exasperated. He coughed his mirth away. Then they stayed silent for a long moment.

"Goodnight, Fujita-san." And for once, she didn't say it condescendingly.

"Goodnight, Tokio." And with that, he turned his back on her.

She watched him do it; it all felt so surreal, she was positive she was dreaming. Yes, she must never have woken up on the first place. Or else, she had to find an explanation as to why her heart skipped a beat when she heard him call her by her own name in that tone of voice.

.

.

.

There was a knock on the door; Saito's eyes snapped open. He couldn't believe it for a moment, but he'd fallen asleep. Admittedly, there was too little he could do just lying there on that bed next to her so he was somewhat justified. But all he did was watch her breath air in and out...yet it was truly mesmerising. The moment he'd heard her light snoring he lay on his back again but when he looked at her, he didn't want to look away. He just looked at her nose doing that odd thing every time something bothered her, or her mouth slightly move with every breath; her chest rose and fell rhythmically…so much it put him to sleep.

He wasn't even ashamed to admit it, he was far too shocked. This whole concept of such powerful attraction was unprecedented to him. He had spent far too much time that morning, more than he cared to admit, thinking how it would feel like to sleep with her as a man and not just a decoration; how it would feel to wake up next to her after. And how refreshing would it be for her delightful scent to mingle with his…

But even if nothing happened, it felt good to open his eyes and she was the first thing he laid eyes upon.

"Wake up;" he whispered in her ear, no more than a centimetre away from her "they're here."

As if programmed, she opened her eyes; she rubbed them and yawned. She stretched, taking a little too much space yet still not touching him; somehow that aggravated him. She yawned some more but finally took small steps to get out of bed. More knocking was heard. "I'm coming," she complained to the people behind the door! With practised motions and accuracy, her feet landed exactly at the spot her slippers rested and were placed snuggly into them. She took a moment to gather momentum and the next she was up! "I'm coming," she assured and dragged her feet to the door.

But despite her slow movements and her appearance, she was fully alert; she was thinking about ten things at the same time while she looked back at Fujita to see if he were covered and looking away. He was. Like receiving her signal, she slid the door open.

None other but three out of the five ishin shishi were there: Nagato, Yato, and Takatsuki. Deciding to play the part of the innocent caught red-handed, she pretended to be surprised to see them. "Sirs…I hope there is a very particular reason you visit me at my private quarters."

"There is. We are looking for our friend, Fujita Goro; we can't locate him any-!"

She didn't even have to pretend—that violent blushing rushed to her cheeks in a matter of seconds! Averting her eyes, she looked inside her room as if the greatest secret in the world rested in there. Yato, who was doing the speaking, stopped and followed her eyes. He saw it: a bare hand protruding from beneath the covers started stirring. It was undoubtedly a man's and more specifically, the man's he was looking for. The pleasant surprise written all over his face led the rest to look inside as well and make the same awkward realisation.

And she was the most awkward of all though. "I'll…go…get hi-"

"No!" He said it a little too enthusiastically so Yato caught himself. He looked apologetic and readjusted his tone. "That won't be necessary; when you both wake up properly, just tell him to visit us in the other room. Now we know where he is and we aren't worried, he can take as long as he likes."

"O…kay…good…morning sirs."

She closed the door to their face, but by no means did she leave! She stood right behind it, in an effort to eavesdrop their reactions or conversation. She heard one of them say something about how a Nagato character was being stupid and then another called the same man paranoid and then the accused seemed to make light of this and agree with them and how he was glad this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

She closed her eyes relieved while the guilty smile on her lips started growing bigger and bigger. She walked over to the bed with her heart beating faster; before it was of worry; now it was happiness. She grabbed the cover and threw it away! His head was under it but now she could see he was staring at the door the whole time. Her smile never faded.

"We made it; they believed us!" she was more paranoid than him though so instead of saying the words, she mouthed them; he smiled back.

"You can speak freely, they left."

She took a sharp breath and released it audibly! "I don't believe this just happened and somehow I pulled through! Oh my heart;" she put her hand over it either to feel it or in an attempt to somehow calm it down, walking around "my heart is beating so fast I feel it's going to beat out of my chest! Oh dear oh dear oh dear!"

She made a visible effort to calm, airing herself, still going about the room; what had just happened was…she actually…and no one understood her deceit! She just lied to a bunch of men and assisted in a government-sanctioned mission. She had officially just helped a spy—did that make her something similar by association? Oh, she hoped not; she didn't want to lose the inn. Wait, what was she saying? She just – very successfully indeed – helped him maintain his cover, they won't start parades for her.

Still, her plan of how to pass as a normal couple worked! She was feeling a weird mixture of pride, excitement, fear and relief all at equal measure! She couldn't decide which one was stronger. Was this how Fujita felt most of the time? Anxious not to blow his cover every second of every day, but all this personal triumph for every passed second they failed to catch on to him? If yes, then it was insane; she didn't know how he did it without breaking into sweats or simply breaking down. Nerves of steel; that must have been the answer…!

"Breathe deeply through your nose and exhale from your mouth; it will calm your heart beat," he advised while at the same time walked to her; she started doing it but for some reason it didn't work. She looked troubled. "You have to be still," he finished, putting his hands on her shoulders. He pushed downward for two seconds till she stopped moving. "There you go."

She practised it a couple of times till she managed to do it right. Slowly, she felt her heart beat go back to normal. What with all the oxygen going back to her head she came to process the fact…he was still undressed. And all of that deep breathing was for naught for her tachycardia returned. Pretending she was alright, she removed herself from his hold. Yet she couldn't help but look at him; all those nasty scars, the still healing wounds…she wanted but somehow she couldn't look away. And then there was the part of his well-defined muscles that proved somewhat distracting as well.

But it was mostly the wounds, honestly.

Of course he noticed again. It wasn't hard to do it anyway, as she wasn't covertly glancing at him but overtly staring. For a person so modest she surely has no qualms about this. He stopped fiddling with his hitatare, in his effort to put it on and simply stood there, just to see when she'd realise he was purposefully immobile. It took her more time than one would consider prudent.

"You…must really like your job, enjoy it," she wanted to trace his scars with her hands, just to make sure they weren't fake; no one should be _this_ hurt, ever "if you're willing to endure such violence and abuse."

She finally looked at him and her serious expression was unexpected. He was taken aback; he honestly thought she was just staring at him, on account of never having seen a man naked before, even to this extent. He shrugged. "My job is to kill evil people; what's there not to love?"

"That is your job? I thought you were…an undercover policeman."

"I am skilled in the art of blending in but the first and sole reason I entered this line of work is because it gives me the chance to find more evil people and dispose of them. Going about it one person at a time is very naïve and tiring; it's far better to find their nest. Also, this is my first undercover assignment."

"…oh," was all she could say. "That…that is practical, the altogether part."

He was stuck on one thing she'd said though; it seemed odd anyone would go into the trouble of mentioning it, no matter how true it was. "What made you think I enjoy it? Work is work; you could have just as easily thought I do what I'm told out of lack of options and I sim[ly grew to love it."

"No." She was absolute. "You're sharp and resourceful; you wouldn't lack options. Also, not once have I heard you complain about the difficulties of what you're doing. You don't have many chances for that, granted, but, you know, I carried a bunch of things and I wouldn't stop! But _you _never whine; if anything, you seem proud. And if you think so little of your wounds—if you're willing to receive them on the first place, then it certainly is voluntary."

She couldn't find the courage to keep looking at him; she turned away, hearing the shuffling coming from his general direction—he was dressing after all. "And some of them are still fresh. Was it so bad at Hofu? They must have been deep—it's a long trip from there to here."

"I made it in a hurry." She appreciated he had the decency to lie about it while he appreciated her courtesy by not calling him out.

But once again, his feelings were stirred in all the right ways. She was considerate; and good god was she smart! She called him all those things, knowledgeable, cunning, and intelligent but she wasn't far behind. Her observation skills were truly exceptional, too second to a select few. But why was she so downcast? He didn't like it. All she did was make some accurate deductions about his character…he needed to lighten the mood. "What is this? We barely spent one night together and now you are concerned about me, spinster-girl?"

There was her normal bulging of the eyes and the affronted look; all made sense again in the world. But they didn't stay for long, they were replaced by her jaw tightening and looking distinctively superior. "I would be concerned anyway; no person, man or woman, should lead such a precarious lifestyle! You should take care of yourself, _Fujita-san_."

Well, at least anger was preferred to that other undertone she used when speaking his name.

"I do; don't worry about it."

Fully clothed now, he was ready to leave; he grabbed his sword. "Thank you for your help; though I'll have to inconvenience you from now on. After all we have to sell the whole couple thing."

"I get it; don't worry about it," she threw his words right back at him with the exact same vacant expression.

He smirked. "Good; I'd hate to be one more reason for you to remain single."

He walked out, depriving her from the chance to snap back at him. She remained there, brooding, left to start her day on her own.

=:=:=:=

She was in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. Only three days had passed since then yet it still felt like nothing but a dream. She actually slept with a man. Not just any man, a man she knew and though her feelings about him were conflicted, she could at least say she respected him. She expected to feel much worse than she did but, even when they had been lying next to each other, not for a moment did she feel cornered, or threatened. In fact, it was uncomfortable how comfortable she felt with him, only centimetres away. It might have to do with the fact it **was** him; it wasn't the first time she didn't mind his proximity though she should have. Also, there was a sense of honour about him. She never believed even for a moment he would do something to her.

But she was so frustrated! How could she feel like that with a person who wouldn't tell her his own name? He didn't trust her with it. But it made no sense. He trusted her with something much bigger and important than his name. She could have said no and she knew he would have respected her wishes. So why doesn't he just tell her his name?

Ugh…his mind was a mess. If he was willing to endure all of that hacking and bare it so proud on his chest and speak about killing his enemies with such casualty, then she definitely didn't need to know how it worked.

She sighed. She realised that no matter what, she was still curious. Goddamn it, why!? Her frustration left her close to tears! Alright, his mind was a mess; what about hers though? Why did she make no sense to herself? Why did she look forward to him coming to her room again? They had agreed he'd spend two of the seven nights of every week with her, to keep up appearances; no public displays of affection, other than being close to one another; and of course, no admonishing the staff when they whispered in the corridors about them having an affair, unless it was done disrespectfully.

Tonight was supposed to be the second night of this first week that he would come to her; but this once, he'd stay the whole night. Her cheeks fired up immediately, as if they had their own will, always betraying her. This was such a nightmare!

"Ah!"

She felt a pain and immediately smelt blood; she threw the knife on the counter instinctively. She almost lopped off her own finger; the cut was pretty deep! "Ah…stupid. This is what you get when you get distracted," she scolded herself, peering at her index finger. Making a grand decision, she brought it to her lips and suckled. The best remedy for a harmless cut, taught by her dear mother; she smiled at the memory of them cutting meat on this same counter and her mother doing the same when Tokio accidentally nicked herself.

And now she was did the same, not due to lack of technique, but distraction. She sighed yet again, her finger still in her mouth. No matter the smile on her face at the memory, she hated the metallic taste of blood; she soured. She also hated the smell. She couldn't believe she was so willing to kill a man not a month ago; at that moment, she hadn't cared for any of her aversions to blood—she just wanted to see it run down that pig's mouth, trickle down his jaw, sully his clothes…and now she didn't even want to look at it. Blind hatred could do a lot to a person.

"Don't suck it so much; you draw more blood than necessary."

She was so engrossed in her own thoughts, she missed Fujita coming in and standing next to her. She looked at him surprised at the advice. "Your finger; you cut it right? I can see the blood on the knife."

"Right, yes; I did." She looked disconnected from reality just a tiny bit. "Yes, I did;" she repeated, finally in touch with what he was saying "it hurt." She complained, but not really. There was something matter-of-factly on her tone. "See? It's deep." He smiled when she showed him her injury with a sense of achievement.

"Why, it is deep;" he remarked surprised "how did you get it like that? Were you aiming for your finger all along?"

"No! I was cutting radishes; my hand slipped…I think."

"You think?"

"I was distracted."

"Handling knives is a good time to keep your full attention on something."

"I know genius; I didn't do it on purpose!" Wow, she was being an extra flavour of testy today. "Can you help or not?" Good to see she didn't spurn him; she even asked for his council.

"Sure," he made a point not to change his amiable tone, either to punish her for her own bad mood or help her change it. He ripped a small piece of cloth from the edge of his hitatare as he approached her "you leave it alone to desiccate; it's the best solution. It's not too deep to need stitches so it'll be alright on its own."

He covered her finger with it, like hugging it. "But it's better to keep it covered; it will hurt less in instances of sudden contact."

He wasn't too close; she was barely in his reach. And his hands were rough, calloused by the sword, moving sharply. She could have "owed" a lot of times by the involuntarily harsh treatment but she didn't; she recognised his effort and his intentions. She liked it. She blushed; if she **didn't** know he was doing it just so they appear close to people who may be watching, she would have probably fainted: he wasn't too close, but there was an underlying eroticism to his manners it rendered her immobile. Honestly, she simply looked at his fingers wrapping around hers even after they'd stopped. She didn't know if the mood was on purpose, too but her feet felt like giving out.

"Better?"

"Better…thank you…I…need to chop the rest of my vegetables now."

She turned her back, looking numb; he had no idea what had just happened with her and he was right there! He just thought he should help her with her cut. Did she mind? He was careful not to get too close. Whatever it was though, he felt like he shouldn't let her use a knife in this state or she'd certainly chop off a finger. But how could he stop her? She'd never listen to him. Maybe if he somehow shocked her…ah, of course. He had just the right thing. He was saving it for tonight, but this seemed to be a better time.

He pretended to be fascinated with the radishes and approached even more; looking over her shoulder, he bend down to reach her height. "Saito," he simply said and waited for a moment. Utterly confused, she turned her head to look at him. "Hajime Saito."

A knowing smirk spread all over his face as he slowly distanced himself; it took her a split second but finally realisation flooded her. Her neck turned, following him out the room, till he was no longer visible; the knife was abandoned on the counter as she went to take a seat. Had he just told her his name? Then...she had found out his last secret. No, even better: he _trusted_ her with his final secret. She smiled with an unexpected yet welcome sense of serenity and pride, focusing after a long time.

Hajime Saito; it was a good name.

It wasn't till a little later she remembered why it felt familiar. It was a famous name, too! Apparently these ishin shishi had never seen his face but even they would know his name, if she did. Though, she never would have associated it with him, his face, and his character. His reputation was one that spoke of a ruthless killer, the unyielding third squad captain of the Shinsegumi. His behaviour here painted him the type who barked but didn't bite. Well, to the rest anyway; she'd seen him talk about his job and saw the scars on his body—she saw those two things at the same time.

She wouldn't have pegged him for Hajime Saito but now that she knew, she couldn't have imagined anyone more fitting to bare that name.

* * *

**A/N**: Chapter end~! Fu fu fu, hope you liked it. Please review and/or message me to let me know what you thought.

P.S. Note how the size is getting bigger and bigger by the chapter? Yeah, not on purpose, it just happens. xD


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: Next chapter~~! It came sooner than I wanted because this will be my last update for a week or more due to the fact I'll be leaving for holidays! Yay for summer vacation. I won't have any access to the internet nor will I have my laptop, so I won't be able to write. But, once I return, expect great things! xD

Also, more plot dusted here and there with more getting to know each other in more one-on-one convos. I mean, after all, how much do they really know about one another, right? But next chapter shit hits the fan, - as if the ending line in this isn't any indication, ehehe - and God do I love these chapters where shit hits the fan.

Thank you once again, all the wonderful people who reveiwed; you give me the fuel to keep writing! Also, is Saito isnt getting his kiss be sure youll be frustrated with him :P

Aaaaaand this is where I put my disclaimer about Ruroken; you know how that goes.

* * *

.

That same night, there was a knock on her door; she was bending over a teapot to reach something behind it. Hastily, she straightened and said: "Enter," in a commanding voice.

The door revealed none other than her expected guest.

_Fujita-s…no Saito-san_, she had to correct her own thoughts, _looks more polished than usual_. His oyoroi hitatare seemed brand new, or at the very most worn maybe once or twice and she had actually never seen it again; there was also something very formal in the air about him.

Good; she'd hate to be the only one who made an effort.

"Tokio," he gave a small bow.

Of course he had noticed how she too looked different than usual. She had put on one of her nicer kimonos, if the fabric was any indication, and it was one that matched his usual pallet preferences: deep blue, royal blue, grey, indigo...she tried to match his tone. How…adorable.

"Fuji…Err, S…um…" she stopped talking. With slight panic, she realised she didn't know what to call him! Which name should she use? Or should she use the last name?

"You can call me whatever you like," he helped, sensing her problem; it wasn't like her to be at a loss for words "we are alone here."

"Right, I knew that," she scolded herself. She took a moment to restart her thought process, closing her eyes; in the meanwhile he sat down opposite from where she was standing. He hadn't exactly sat, he was inclining. He'd then brought one leg in front of him, to rest his arm there, while the other arm supported his weight on the futon.

That was casual.

"Saito-san." She gave a small bow, sitting in seiza. "I have prepared tea for us and-"

She had battled for hours with herself on how to phrase this last part, but she'd finally found the perfect way. She was very proud of herself in fact, on finding such a natural way to put it. Still, she didn't get to say it in the end, despite all of her rehearsals because he got to say: "Tea I hear, and I see a new kimono; what, are you planning on _entertaining_ me? I thought you said you didn't provide these sorts of services."

When she understood what he was implying, her colour became ten times brighter! "Of course I don't, what are you saying? This is just tea and-."

"Judging by your colour it seems you have in mind something like what a yujo offers," he kept teasing, literally basking in her deeper red by the minute.

"That's because you keep interrupting me with your assumptions! What I have in mind it's perfectly reputable. In fact, I only meant to ask you if you wanted me to massage your back." He communicated his feelings by raising his eyebrows very high. "We're going to be in here for a long time and I had no idea what to do to keep occupied so I asked my friends, the girls who work here, for some help. They said what _they_ did was dress up nice, offer tea or sake and then their services so…I'm offering mine: a massage therapy—if you don't have any wounds on your back that may reopen, of course," she added as an afterthought.

He chuckled. "It does sound an awful lot like what a yujo offers. Are the girls that advised you prostitutes?"

Her being serious all of the sudden startled him. "Yes…and no. Not anymore; I found them or they came to me once they decided to turn their life around."

Wait, he was only teasing; but it was true? "You mean to tell me some of your staff is former yujo?"

"Yes." She couldn't understand why he was so doubtful. "In fact, all women of my staff are prostitutes. One of the reasons the men are so few; it's hard to find a male who won't try to take advantage of a woman in such a predicament. I had to fire twenty people for that."

He drew a blank for a moment; he didn't know if that was impressive or potentially harmful to her. "And here I thought you said you weren't a madam." She was ready to give him a very big piece of her mind, but stopped when he smiled, as if he had just beaten her at something. "The massage sounds great." Without further ado, he sat up and started undoing his hitatare.

She really wanted to smack his head—she was conflicted if she should even go through with this! But she had realised by now: if he had a problem with something, he let her know, so he wasn't being all that serious…so she turned to reach that which she was trying to get when he'd just come in: her oils and incense for the massage. It was all in a wooden beautiful box, lined with black lacquer and carvings of flowers. The time it took her to fetch it, sort out the ones she needed and pull up her sleeves, he had lied down on his stomach, bare from the waist up.

Satisfied, she lit the incense and cracked her fingers! She reached for her favourite walnut-scented oil; she would go with safe and classic choices. For a reason beyond her understanding, she felt she wanted this to be perfect! She wanted him to enjoy it and compliment her for it. But just before she pulled the stopper of the glass vial, she noticed: his back didn't have a single scratch!

"This is impressive; given the state of your front I had expected to see horrible scars on your back, too…but there are none."

He felt the oil hitting his back; then her hands came to spread it. There was also a pleasant smell, what was it? "That's because I never allowed anyone to sneak up on me." Walnut and lavender? And something else he couldn't distinguish…

She felt oddly reassured at that revelation. "Mm, you must be truly capable. Your reputation certainly implies that, too."

Slowly, yet steadily, her hands applied more and more pressure at all the right spots. Ah, he had a knot there. He felt very calm. "My reputation? I have one, huh?"

"Of course; though it isn't all positive. They call you a vicious, ruthless killer and a wolf."

His speech was a little less sharp that usual. "I…consider that a compliment."

She felt her stomach clutch at that. "But what they're saying is you're cruel and merciless."

"They are my enemies; coming from them, it really is a compliment."

A terrible thought crossed her mind right about then; her heart beat faster. "I get you must have killed a lot of people; and you did say you enjoy your work but…what is the aspect you truly enjoy? Is it…" she hesitated for a moment. Maybe she didn't want to know the answer to this; but she knew she must hear it. "Is it killing people?"

Even if his senses had started to numb by the repeated ministrations, he certainly heard that clearly; he felt a little worse but a little better at the same time. He was disappointed in himself he may have given such an impression – which was new to him; he never cared before – but he was very glad she asked him. By her tone, she disapproved of such things while it also implied she trusted him enough to pose this question.

He smiled. "If that were true, I'm no different from all the scum I've killed. Though I won't deny enjoying a good fight when it comes around, that is certainly not the reason I pick up my sword day after day. We have a code in the Shinsegumi-maybe we even share it with some of the patriots. Do you want to hear it?"

"Yes," she replied so soon, she felt embarrassed.

"Aku soku zan."

"Aku…soku zan? Does that mean what I think it does?"

"Yes; it means to kill evil immediately. It means that when we see evil, we have to dispatch it as soon as we can. That may take seconds, or days. Those who have the patience, like I, know how important both of there are and a-Ah!ct…accordingly."

She had just applied a little more pressure on a certain sore spot, he actually reacted? "Oh _that_ hurt you? There's a scar on your chest the length of a whole dagger, hilt _and_ blade."

"I didn't say anything."

She purposefully hurt him a little more; he kept quiet.

His quietness led to a long stretch of silence between them in which she only kneaded his flesh. Her ministrations combined with those scents, dulled his senses; he didn't want to admit it, but he could fall asleep again, just like this. Slowly, his consciousness faded, started giving way to a strange in-between world, where he could say and do anything he wanted. One of the things on his wish list was to have her do this anyway, massage him; it had been on his mind ever since she said it. So, it only made that overwhelming urge even stronger.

Losing his sense of self just for a tiny moment, he finally said: "I like your hair." He meant to compliment her but it came out…very matter-of-factly. Man.

"Oh, you noticed!" Just for that comment alone, and the joy in her tone, he did not regret saying it out loud. "I did them on my own. I usually can't even tie my hair up properly but this once I thought I should just do whatever and hope it will turn out nice."

"It did."

"Thank you, Saito-san."

She kept massaging; he wished she would never stop. There were some sore parts of him he didn't even know existed. This…this helped. He could feel his left shoulder loosing up and he knew his control would be even better after this. "Do you like tea Saito-san? Or should I have brought sake?"

"I have a strong preference to sake, but this is good, too."

"Next time, I'll bring sake then," she said very lady-like.

And then there was more silence…which he broke again. The question had been on his mind, but he didn't want to make it; now? He didn't really care. "How did you decide to start helping these women?"

"I decided to do it on a whim; these women didn't have anywhere to go. They left a system no one should ever enter to get into one that considers them worthless just for being in the previous one."

"That doesn't sound like a whim," he commented no matter his haze, but she ignored it.

"People keep telling them they should get out, but when they do, no one wants them and tells them they should have never left?" A loud "tch" was heard. "Damn hypocrites if you ask me; who takes care of the ones in need anyway? The people don't care; the government doesn't care; the officials don't care; even the police don't care…! With all due respect," she blurted in the end, remembering his actual occupation.

He nodded to show he didn't mind and she should go on. "The first ones were the three middle-aged women you've met that are almost always in the kitchen; my father brought them—the only ones that father ever brought. After mum died, he turned to…the red-light district. He said he didn't want to be remarried or what not. But the few ones he liked, he eventually liked too much and asked them to stop their work and make a new life for themselves. He promised to help them do it, a word he kept.

I was young when it happened, maybe ten, so I didn't have any prejudgements. He explained to me what he did and why and I thought he did the right thing. After he died, five years ago, I didn't intend to keep the inn—like I said, I wanted to follow **this** career and dad was very positive about it. He even told me to sell it himself. But the day I was supposed to meet a buyer, I met a girl, no older than me. She was crying and she was in a very bad state in general.

I went to help her and she just looked so mortified when I tried to touch her…! It broke my heart. I bought her a meal and later she shared her story with me. She was sold into the sex industry by her parents half a year earlier. She had run away that day, but a client recognised and attacked her. And then he just left her there. I thought it was unacceptable so I urged her to go to the police…who of course looked at me like I was insane for trying to bring this matter to their attention. They even tried to scare me away by saying that if the sale was legal they could always charge us with something…"

She snorted very unforgivingly. "I took her away immediately and brought her here to show her how it felt to be safe; she mustn't have experienced anything like that in her recent life…And in that moment, I realised I had no choice but to keep the inn. It was a safe haven not only for me, but for those women, too." She shrugged. "That's it I suppose."

"Oh…? Now I see why you took the boy in, too."

"It's not the same. They work here, they aren't guests. He is."

"Then maybe you should put him to work, too; if he feels like he earns his right to be here instead of someone making him a favour then maybe he won't leave again."

She sat there, looking at him perplexed; that was the first time her hands stopped moving. "That is an excellent idea." How didn't she think of that? She shook her head but started massaging him again. "I'll give it a try."

"Tell me if it works." She had concentrated on his left side and he felt amazing! She was good at this. "How d'your father die?"

"…you're asking an awful lot of questions. Are you interrogating me Saito-san?"

"Wouldn't dream of it; just curious."

She giggled; he stopped making whole sentences! "Heart failed; it was sudden—at least for me. He never liked going to the doctors and I found out why. He said my mother gave him the heart condition when she died and left him alone with a little monster like me." She laughed, making it appropriate for him to smile, too. "I think he died so he'd leave me alone; he always said how he wanted to be out of my hair before I get married."

"That's strange. Why?"

"He had this weird idea that orphaned women get married easier."

"How'd the poor man know you'd end up a spinster?" She pinched him that same moment. "But maybe he did that's why he urged you to sell the establishment. He knew it'd be too time consuming."

She rolled her eyes. "Enough of my sap story; what about yours? How did you end up alone in this world and into the Shinsegumi?"

"I was seventeen when I killed a man for killing my family." _I shouldn't be saying these things._ "The tricky part was he the son of my master. What to do? I leave immediately, being branded traitor and ronin; I headed to Mibu where I met a man named Kondo Isami. He saw my skill with the sword and asked me if I wanted to refine it…I followed him. Not many years later, we formed the Shinsegumi." _I really shouldn't be saying all these things to her; it'll do her more harm than good._

"That was brief," she commented, feeling ashamed it took her so long to tell hers. "But how did Kondo Isami get to witness your skill with the sword?"

Oh, she noticed; nice of her. But she wasn't even supposed to know. _Thanks brain for not complying with me; I guess you'll tell her the rest now, too? _"I displayed it unknowingly when I cut down some scum who wanted to take someone by force." _Yes, you will._

"Aku soku zan, right? It feels like you were meant to join the Shinsegumi. Did you make up the slogan or did you all agree to it?"

He smirked. "We all agreed to it but I had a say in it." She surprised him by chuckling. "So how d'mom die?"

"You'll learn all about me in one night? Save something for next week!"

She may have joked about it, but she was conflicted. Should he tell him now? What would they talk about at other times? And did she really feel comfortable telling him? Yet…it felt nice he wanted to know these things. Men who asked her hand for marriage weren't this interested. Oh who did she try to kid? She knew she'd give in.

"She and father were trying for a second child; she died a little after she got pregnant. Complications, the doctor said. She'd been ill for a while, too. Dad explained it was her who wanted the second child mostly, to make her passing bearable to both of us. Taking care of a baby is very time-consuming apparently. I was barely seven when she passed."

"...you are very sickly in your family." He commented _so_ inconsiderately he could feel her temper rising! Also he could feel her increase the pressure. No matter, he was getting somewhere with it. "Have _you_ ever had any health problems?"

"No; this isn't one more reason why I remain unmarried! I'm healthy as a horse, very fitting for child-birth if you have to know…or so the doctor says."

"That is fortunate," was all he said.

For a fleeting moment, the most ridiculous thought had crossed his mind: if she was sickly that meant she'd die young…_and I'd be left alone_. He felt very uncomfortable at that prospect. She wasn't supposed to go before him, no one was; he was a Shinsegumi in the middle of war: he'd die first. Because the thought of her dying before him scared him. It had left him absolutely crippled when he imagined her murdered but he attributed to the fact he felt responsible. Yet there he was, dreading the prospect of her leaving this world before him, no matter why. Was this how people felt when they were in love? He'd never been before. If yes, he was no longer surprised some men were willing to go to such lengths for a woman.

Powered by the – unwarranted – fear of losing her and this unnatural damn atmosphere all around him, he opened his mouth again. "Tomorrow we have a big meeting. And I fear we'll talk about something related to you." _I shouldn't make her worry._ "They've been too happy with this development, us together," _no stop; don't drag her into this_ "it worries me." _Idiot!_ "I don't know what it can be, but I just have this bad feeling." _Oh fuck; please don't ask me anything._

"Do your bad feelings usually come true?"

_Say no. Lie to her_. "Yes."

"…will you tell me if they do say something?"

_I shouldn't, but I know_ "I will."

She stopped massaging him, trying to take the news in. "Saito-san…will you tell me a story?"

"Hmm? Story?"

"Yes; tell me about one of your missions." Huh; she wanted to get to know him. That exceeded his expectations. "Or even better; tell me about the time you got that huge scar on your chest!"

"Mm?" he remembered that mission, just like it was happening in front of him. It wasn't the best to tell if you didn't want to scare someone. He could lie to her; say another one…but he didn't want to. If he was interested in her and hoped she'd one day feel the same way, she should learn all the bad things, too. "You keep your hands working I'll keep my mouth talking."

"Saito-san, I think you're trying to take advantage of my good intentions." He agreed by granting; she chuckled. "Very well."

His extortion was successful...! He smiled indolently. "Two years ago, I was sent to a village in the most northern part of Hokkaido. It was pretty basic: uphold the law and help the Tokugawa men keep the order. When I got there, everything seemed to be ordinary: a law-abiding crowd with but a few, obligatory characters who stirred trouble, spewing all sorts of nonsense…only this nonsense were very particular and very pointed, accusing the Bakufu top dog of corruption and all sorts of crimes.

I could honestly say I liked that man far more than any of my supposed colleagues; the moment I'd set foot up there, I knew there was something quite wrong, but I couldn't figure out why. That man made me think but I took it further than that. After all, when I asked a couple of people when I had first arrived, they were more than willing to laud him as the best captain. So I thought, what if all the heinous crimes weren't committed by the men who were in prison but the ones who put them there? What if they were all in on it?

I ran to the prison and let the ones I learnt to be innocent out with me; it was only ten of us and about fifty of them; they cornered us at Gendou inn. We had no escape and no other choice but to fight back. I was leading the men, so I lead the attack. It was exhausting; the casualties were never higher. We'd fended them off successfully but the cost was big—we'd remained five…the Shinsegumi I had asked for came a week later; we put things in order and then I returned to Mibu for my next assignment."

"That sounds terrifying!"

She couldn't tell where exactly, but at some part of the story-telling she felt her breath catch and only now was it released.

"How convoluted of them; but you exposed them. You are indeed smart, Saito-san." The lack of response should but didn't surprise her because she really wanted to say the rest. "You fought against your own people, too not many men are capable of that. It's admirable. But you still didn't tell me how you got the scar, so go on." He didn't reply; she pouted. "Saito-san, you're not fair; I keep massaging you, but you won't hold up your end of the-!"

When she took a better look at him, she noticed his breathing was even; his hands were too relaxed; and his eyes were closed…

He fell asleep.

A man like him, taught to be vigilant, an undercover policeman who suffered all these wounds but still survived, fell asleep while someone else was touching them? Amazing. Her gaze grew soft; he must be really tired then, since he always keeps an eye out for everything. He couldn't get the appropriate sleep because of the shishi, but with her, he felt safe enough to do that; he trusted her with his life. That hit her hard! No one has ever done that before. A very warm and tingly sensation spread inside her like wildfire. She…she liked it; at the same time, she wanted to do her best to affirm his trust. She wiped her hands and put the oils and incense back into place; she then took careful steps to wipe his back too: she found a towel, submerged it and part by part, he was clean again. He'd get cold like that though…finding his hitatare she put both of his hands in it. Gently pushing him to the side – he was right in the middle – she made room for herself.

But she still didn't have enough space. When she turned to him, again, she cocked her head to the side. He was so peaceful when he slept; he even looked likeable. Okay, that was mean; she did start to like him—in fact the more time he spent with her, the more she liked him. She smiled; and then did something she had thought herself incapable of: hoping he was still asleep, praying to god he'd stay that way, she lifted the arm that caused the space problem. Slowly, cautiously, she lay on her side and made herself comfortable. When she was done, she put his hand over her shoulders.

Though her heart beat was fast enough she may have run a marathon, it took less than three minutes to fall asleep.

Next morning, she woke up alone; there was only a note where he had been. It read: "thank you for the massage; it was very comforting. Also, you turn a lot in your sleep; you woke me three times. "

Feeling her cheeks burn more than a stove, she hid her face in her hands. "I will never ever do this again. Ever. Ugh…!"

But what made her feel truly ashamed was the fact she didn't meet him for the rest of the day! He was nowhere to be seen and though that was typical, he was always the one who approached her, now she wouldn't catch a glimpse of him. Did he…did he think she was inappropriate? She wasn't trying to start anything; she was only trying to make him feel comfortable and not wake him up. With one fell swoop, she felt ignored and shamed; but he even wrote her that note…! But he just wasn't there.

She didn't expect she'd feel so bad at him not showing up to tease her.

She sighed. She guessed she'd have to get used to it; after all, he was bound to leave at some point. Oh no, no, no; this was not the time to be thinking that. She didn't even know why this made her emotional, but she had no intention to go down that path. She puffed up her cheeks, her pride wounded; she made the grand decision to forget all about what she did and next time she sees him, she'll act as if nothing happened. And if he tried to acknowledge it, she'd simply pretend she couldn't remember what he was referring-!

"Ah!"

A hand grabbed her and pulled her inside a dark room! It was too fast for her to react, even if she knew exactly how to make that person let go of her; yet all desire to fight back vanished into thin air, the moment she heard the familiar pet name.

"Don't make a fuss spinster-girl; we're not supposed to be seen together today, or else I wouldn't have pulled you in here."

Anger, pride, worry and curiosity raged inside her; worry won out in the end. It was fortunate this place had no lighting because he'd see the pathetic look on her face. "_They_ asked for that?"

"Yes, and they were very particular." He took a moment to do something she couldn't see and then said in a serious tone: "do you remember what I told you about today's meeting?"

Her stomach did a flip. "Yes." she tried to search for his face but it was too dark. Suddenly she realised they were in the supplies' room.

"I was right; they asked me to convince you to allow something."

"Allow what?"

Another small pause. "Allow your ryokan to be the new shishi headquarters."

There was a split moment of complete serenity; the calm before the storm.

The next second, she was ready to open the door and tear everyone apart! How did those assholes dare to even think of asking her of something like that? Were they crazy? They thought she'd say yes!? Even is Saito was her lover, and even if he was a shishi there was no way she'd ever betray her friends or personal ideals! That was just the person she was. She promised to kick them out the moment they decided to hurt somebody, but they took it on a whole new level. As if—as if she'd ever allow that! She'd kick them out by nightfall—if only could she open this door. Why couldn't she open the damn door?

"Relax," his voice was soothing but not too different than usual "I know what to do."

It was also too close, where was it coming from? Turning around to face him, she realised she couldn't move. He was holding her; blood rushed to her face. He was holding her _down_, actually, but he was still holding her. He could feel his chest on her back, like last night; more blood rushed to her face. When did he do it? "Are you relaxed?"

"No. No! Let me go! I'll go and give those bastards a piece of my mind!"

"You do that and you're dead. We'll do it my way and we all benefit, how about that?"

"But they ask of me something I cannot possibly-!"

"Hush; you're being too loud. We're not supposed to be together, remember?"

She looked away, silencing herself. Currently there were only two thoughts on her mind: 1)how she wanted to hurt those scum who wanted to take over her inn; 2)how Saito was being way too close but all she felt was safe and protected. She couldn't pick a worse time to be this divided.

"What do you propose?"

She sounded composed, so he tentatively let her go. "When my deadline is coming to an end, a week from now, we tell them you said yes. Meanwhile, we get another message to the Shinsegumi about this...this development is much better than I thought: we now have a set date about the ishin shishi coming and we also know their destination: the Takagi ryokan. We can have more than just one point of contact and take them on easier."

"Oh." That sounded good even to her and she wasn't a Shinsegumi tactician. "And no one will ever get to come here, because they'll be intercepted so the few ones who do will be already weak and hurt and easy to dispose of."

"Precisely. Now we only need someone to deliver the message. Think your boy is up for it?"

"My boy…you mean Takeru? No! No way in earth am I getting him involved in this." She thought for a moment. "I could do it."

He felt the need to throw at her the exact same words, but he didn't. He knew what she was going to say: I can do it; I'm already involved anyway; don't you trust me? But the oddest thing was that she was right...and he believed it himself. He already got her involved. She could certainly do it, she was just as smart as him; and if there was one person he trusted it was her. The only thing she lacked was experience, in case anyone tried to question her.

He didn't know how to respond. The thought of her dying still made him wanna punch a wall in and murder them all just to be safe, but…what about the future? Would it always be like this? If this attraction of his were to go anywhere, he had to know she could deal with things on her own; also, he needed to treat her as an equal and support her in this endeavour. If she could pull this off, he might not even have to worry about her being targeted even after he's gone.

He considered.

"If you can successfully sell them that you'd help even if I wasn't in the picture, I will entrust you with this message. I don't even have to explain the importance of it being delivered, you understand. And I will give you no direction on what to do it'll be your assignment; I'll just tell you that you should do it three days from now."

Her chest swelled with pride and a sense of achievement! "Leave it all to me; I already know exactly what to say."

Oh? That sounded interesting. "Very well this is yours. All credit or blame, too so…surprise me." She smirked; too bad he couldn't see her. "I'll be watching. Oh, you can expect me tomorrow again; if I'm not being too forward I'd like to ask for one more massage."

"Ah, no it's fine; if someone needs it that's you."

He felt she just called him an old man...! That wouldn't do. "But next time you sleep with me like that don't expect me to be up before you."

He slid the door open and let the light in for no other reason he wanted to see every bit of her face when realisation hits her. He wasn't wrong, it was priceless: eyes not too wide, her mouth forming something of a circle despite being closed and looking to her right. Her chest was expanding as she took air in, along with panic, and the deepest scarlet painted her whole face. "S-S-S-S-S-Sai-!"

"See you tomorrow," he threatened her, or at least that's how she felt, and walked away.

.

.

.

The entire week that followed was a nerve-wracking one.

Three days after she was told the news, she put her plan into motion, just like Saito had told her to do: for the whole day, from morning till evening, she kept entering the ishin's "other" room while they were still inside. She did it irregularly, but she did it many times. They had all started looking at her wondered, but even Saito couldn't help it. What was she up to? Of course, he wouldn't know; he was not supposed to be present when she "confessed" her true wishes to them.

She saw him leave; that was her cue! Two minutes later, she walked in. She pretended to be shy yet went to the middle of the room so all could see her but kept facing the door, to make her con believable. "Now that Fujita-san in not here, I want to tell you this—but please don't say anything to him, I don't want to make him feel bad. That's why I waited till he was gone." After she received everyone's confirmation – with people smiling like idiots –, only then did she continue. "I just want you to know…I think your cause is noble. I have seen for myself the inability of the state and its people for myself; if I could, I would fight alongside you. What I'm trying to say is…either Fujita-san was here or not, I still would have helped you."

There was silence for a moment. "Please, please don't tell him; he really likes to think he's the one who set me on this path."

Some chuckled, others laughed; but the truly important thing was she made them smile. And that was paramount to gaining someone's trust. In fact, later that day, Saito assured her she had made herself not only trustworthy but also likeable. Feh, men; all you had to do was badmouth or at least make another man seem less important and they are willing to believe anything you say. Even Saito had complimented her about the idea.

After that, it was the turn of the plan for her to appear at the Shinsegumi, without arousing any suspicions. That was easier: all she had to do was ask some favours from Reika-chan. She swore her to secrecy but wither way, she was glad to be of help. The plan was simple: Reika-chan would leave the ryokan for some groceries. When she returned she just had to go to her and say the Shinsegumi want to see her about that rapist. Thus she'd have a reason to visit them, as far as the shishi went.

All of that happened in five days; the message had been delivered to the Shinsegumi, no one looked at her the wrong way for going there—in fact, Yato himself urged her to present herself so not to betray their plans be her absence.

The sixth day she received some news that worried her: there had been a change of plans. The patriots seemed it fitting to speed things up. Not only had her agreeing so fast made things easier for them, but they'd also noticed a rise in manpower from the Shinsegumi. It all pointed to the need of an earlier strike. Tokio started worrying.

The seventh night, Saito had informed her he would be spending it with her.

"Don't worry about your inn, spinster girl. It's all under control," was the first thing he said to her.

She was tapping her finger on her wooden box even before he came into the room, inclining on her futon. "How can you say that? They decided to expedite the whole thing." She wasn't hysterical, just extremely anxious. He knew she'd be like this more or less, one of the reasons he chose this night to keep her company.

"Yato has been suggesting it for a long time; I know he's the one who actually controls this unit, not the imbecile he allows to think is running the show. From the first time he mentioned it, I kept a sharp eye. Finally, yesterday he moved the date—the same one he kept saying for half a month now. I predicted as such so I notified them. It was all in the note you sent for me."

"Oh…oh thank God!" She felt she could hug him! "Those are the best news I have heard all week."

He smirked. "Well, you have to give yourself a little credit, too. This wouldn't have happened without your help. For a first timer, you certainly hatched nice plans."

She smiled modestly. "Thank you, Saito-san." It was odd how she had to call him by a different name when they were with people; ever since she learnt it, she couldn't see him like anything else. He was Saito. Fujita Goro was such a poor name in comparison.

"Pour me some sake to celebrate the occasion then."

She reprimanded him with a sharp glare. "No; you keep drinking like that one day it will kill you."

"But you never poured me some though I have asked you twice; if you do I won't ask you again."

"You're lying; I can tell."

He betrayed himself on purpose by giving in; he wouldn't admit he actually liked the fact she started seeing through his moods. Of course, the same went for him, too so he knew she was about to open her box and gather her oils. Like a ritual, every time he visited she would do this; two times, this was the third. He even remembered how she had slept under his arm that one time but then she never dared doing it again because of what he'd said.

Well now, he couldn't allow that; he had to find some other way. "What do you say we do something different this time?" She looked at him expectant, because she had no idea what else to do. "It isn't completely different…but I have been having these horrible headaches recently" lies "and they bother me too much. Can you do anything about them?"

"Oh, yes." She sat on her shins readily. "I have never tried this on anyone before, but I was taught how to do it just before I leave Aizu."

"Aizu?"

"Our family doctor is from there and he referred me to a wonderful practitioner to train, but I returned when father fell ill. Never mind!" she tapped her legs twice "lay your head in my lap; and tell me what kind of headaches they are."

"Sharp; they come and go. I feel like wanting to behead myself."

She chuckled. "Oh? You, too? I heard there is a line."

They both shared a knowing chuckle; she then started cracking her fingers again and he tried to relax his face, closing his eyes. The incense was already burning, he noticed. It smelt differently every time; now it was jasmine. She first cradled his face, looking for something, and after she found it she started massaging some spot on his temples.

Ah, this was heavenly.

He remembered a time when they were on a mission here in Kyoto, to find some shishi, and they had to go to Shimabara. He'd seen many men with heads in women's laps. He'd wondered how it would feel, but he wasn't jealous of them at all; they had to pay them to do it. _He_ earned it; a little underhandedly, true, but she would never do anything she wasn't comfortable with, he knew. He also knew this felt much better than he'd ever hoped.

Maybe it wasn't the same with waking up in the middle of the night and seeing her in his arms; or getting to play with her hair in the morning before leaving; or the need to leave before she wakes up so she wouldn't notice the look of absolute longing on his face. But her lap was softer than any pillow and the intimacy was real. And with that knowledge, he allowed himself to drift off.

It wasn't too long after she gave into her own weariness. She just slept there, with Saito in her lap; her head lolled. The next day she would discover just how painful that would be…or embarrassing. The first thing she felt was a flick on her nose by s smirking Saito who just couldn't help himself.

And for a brief moment in time, his life was simple; his life was good.

* * *

**A/N**: Shimabara was the enclosed place in Kyoto where all of the sexy happened-in other words, it was the red light district of Kyoto. Apparently, due to a rise in numbers in male and female prostitution during the early 17th century, the Bakufu thought it would be better if he contained it in certain places, fenced and everything. Shimabara was for the former capital. Yoshiwara was the one in Tokyo - Edo of the time - that you may know from Gintama.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**: Update! Thank you again all of you who reviewed; your opinons are always taken under consideration and help me improve! You're a wonderful audience. Also, thak you for your kind words. Like promised, shit hits the fan.

Seeing I just came back from holidays not two days ago, next update will probably take a little less than this one, but not earlier.

Despite being summer here in Greece and a big part of the world, we're in late October early November of 1867 in the story and then goes on from there. I know for a fact I fabricated this whole thing with the inn but I'l mingle it with some historical facts. Of course some things will be inserted by me again but you get the gist of it: I want this to be fiction based on fact.

And here is fun fact: the real Saito met his wife long after the Boshin War. xD I didn't keep it that way because this suits me better.

This is my disclaimer about RuroKen, etc etc.

* * *

.

The designated day came; the morning was slow but the afternoon was worse.

By the time the sun had set it was a whole different reality: every single member of the staff was already gone; she had pretty much ordered them to clear away, in fear they may get hurt. Takeru was sent to the family doctor; supposedly because she was worried he caught a cold she evaded everyone's suspicions. The guests were all gone because she made sure of that also, by giving them all two days free of charge, if only they'd leave just for this night.

The ishin had thought it an excellent idea; of course they also thought they owned the ryokan now. And since none of these people had any intention of joining their war, they had to go. That's what she convinced them of anyway…a fact for which Saito was very impressed.

Also, he was feeling a lot better; if she could pull this off, then he wouldn't have to worry! Besides, the first time he ever met her, she was brandishing a knife. A woman like that was difficult to harm exactly because no one expects a woman to fight back. But he'd seen the daggers in her room and how her form was that of a warrior when she gave orders to people. He felt at ease.

He must have been the only one at ease in the whole establishment though: Yato kept looking at the sky; Nagato was biting his lip; the rest were so grim they wouldn't even argue. And of course, the one who fashioned himself their leader would sit down in a corner like an infant. Then there was Tokio. She'd glare or snap at everyone under the slightest of nuisances. There were not scarce, the times when people would look at Saito wondered, as if asking "what the hell attracted you to her?"

But he was unaffected, smiling or shrugging relaxed, almost tranquil. That should have been their first indication. The time of arrival was midnight but the more it approached, the more everyone got to think something was wrong. All but him. Of course, Saito had the foresight to remove Tokio from their company, before they felt too desperate.

"Whatever you see, act like you're on their side," was his parting advice with her "and don't forget to call me Fujita."

And now the clock read half past twelve.

"Where are they? They should have been here by now," the boss only in title inquired for the umpteenth time. Like saying it over and over again would help any.

Nagato, ever the optimist, replied: "we haven't received word from them in a long time but last time we did, six hours ago, they said all was well. They had made port safely and assembled all sixty of them, ready to march to Kyoto. The trip is long, after all."

"The trip is long, certainly, but that is why we had them land when they did," Yato spoke finally. "Do not forget, their message was written _after_ whatever it recites. They should have been here by now."

"Then why aren't they?"

Takatsuki sounded truly desperate; everyone looked at each other the same way. Saito simply looked outside the window: running towards the inn, already in the garden, there was the first patriot sighting. Saito cocked his head to show them. Everyone followed his gesture, excited to see their brothers in arms arriving…but what they got to see instead was the opposite of what they were expecting: a broken man, bleeding from a large wound somewhere on his body they couldn't see, scurrying around, looking for the entrance. He was beaten up, too and he looked everything but battle-ready, his sword nowhere in sight.

Saito smirked and reached for his sword.

"They were held up."

Everything happened in fast-forward! The sword unsheathed; Saito bent his legs while his good hand, the left one, drew the sword backwards, left foot following; his right hand opened in front of it, to aim. Yato caught the motion and knew there was only one option left: RUN!

Keito and Takatsuki were both a second too late; they turned and saw Fujita Goro spring forward. They blinked. Fujita Goro killed them both.

"AAAH! What the hell?" Nagato was running away, he following after Yato who seemed to understand the situation much better. "Why is he doing this? What the fuck is going on? Where are our me-?"

A head flew; blood spattered on the walls while a body hit the ground. Yato had jumped away a moment too soon again and now kept running away. Damn it; _he_ was his original target, but the bastard had seen through him at the last second. And now Yato was trying to get away! But he wouldn't let him.

He took the same left his prey did.

"Yato-san, why are you run-?"

He heard Tokio's voice before seeing her. She was looking at Yato perplexed, who grabbed her by the forearm and dragged her with him!

"No time to talk; just know I'm doing you a favour." The corridor was long and straight…Saito had his chance; he rushed forward! Yato saw through that, too and crushed into a paper wall. Avoiding him, he fell into an entertainment room, bare of all furnishings.

Saito followed them inside. Why the hell was she out of the room he left her in? "Doing her a favour? By dragging her into a swordfight unarmed?" He snorted. "Think again."

"What is going on; why are comrades fighting?"

Tokio hated how she had to act, yet she'd made a promise; when she looked at Saito's blade she saw it had a lot of blood on it. She swallowed.

"We're not comrades, Tokio; he betrayed us. He's with the Shinsegumi."

She gave Yato the perfect look of disbelief and shock while the man tried to shield her from the traitor; she allowed him to drag her behind him as she turned to Saito. "Is that true? You're one of them?"

"Yes."

She covered her mouth; he could laugh with how convincing an actress she was. "So…you're the reason why no one is here yet. You tipped your people off."

"Very astute of you, Tokio, as usual; I am Shinsegumi and I advised them on how to best handle this. Sixty men, all headed in this very inn from Osaka, they better take them out in waves. The best way to handle all the stragglers, too."

"You bastard," she exclaimed! "How could you?"

"My plan was to gather a large force of people and launch a surprise attack that will leave the enemy defenceless. I beg your pardon for the simplicity but, after all, I copied it from you."

Yato had already taken a defensive stance; his form was good, but the Gatotsu was better. He let him take whatever stance he wanted, let him bide his time—it wouldn't save him anyway. "Me? Oh, you think _I_ formed the plan?"

"Didn't you? I wouldn't have come after you if you didn't."

"Yato-san is the leader?" Tokio was looking from one to the other, pretending to be at a complete shock. "And Fujita-san is a Shinsegumi? Wh…?"

"Get the girl out of the way" Saito commanded, taking his own stance "and come at me or I'm coming at you."

Yato took three steps behind, Tokio moving with him; she wanted to go, but she knew Yato wouldn't let her—something about him felt underhanded. "You know my real name; shouldn't I know yours?"

He didn't want to stall anymore; he felt something was going to happen. He had to kill him swiftly—but Tokio was right behind him and he couldn't attack without hurting her. So he answered: "Saito Hajime."

Yato's eyes grew a margin. "The third squad captain; what an honour for us Tokio," he spared her a glance "we have been betrayed by an infamous warrior."

"Oh yeah, I feel very honoured; he'll be at the top of the list now."

Yato laughed. "I can see why you like her," he snapped to the captain. "Is _that_ why you won't kill her or is it because she's a woman?"

"Her agreeing to your ridiculous request helped us kill you all; _that _is why I won't kill her."

"Yes, after spending night after night with me that's your reason; great honour for me indeed." Again with her emotionless tone she made both men smirk.

"Don't worry Tokio; I'll avenge your honour. I'll kill him for the both of us."

"Your form is considerably better than a mere swordsman's but it's full of holes for my gatotsu to find and I doubt you can beat me in offense. The one who'll be doing the killing is me."

"As you are now, I can't possibly beat you…I agree. But you see my strength lies in reading my opponents intentions and their weak spots; currently you have none. I've heard how your technique uses a thrust with very few openings. I saw it; it was too much for me. You fight calm and collected, analysing your opponent's abilities. But my specialty is throwing my opponent in disarray so even the most accomplished swordsmen can't fight back. So if I do this—"

The sense of danger increased by a tenfold. Tokio felt her hair stand straight and the instinct of survival kicked in—she turned to the side and moved a step backward but he grabbed her hand just as she moved away; he put her in front of him, her hand bent on her back, sword threatening.

Saito almost launched forward! But he stopped himself; he had lost his window. If he attacked now he would hit Tokio, he'd be wide open to a counterattack and the only one to benefit would be Yato. The bastard thought this through. He wasn't lying when he said he could read intentions.

"You'll be helpless. But if I do this—"

Three things happened at the same time. Tokio reached for her dagger; Yato's sword moved; and Saito was struck by that same image he had pictured on that day, unable to see anything else: Tokio on the floor, eyes wide open, with her throat slit. The smell of blood was real though and hit him so hard he came back to his senses. What he saw was just as bad.

Tokio was pierced from behind and the tip of his sword glistened red as it peeked out her front, at the right side of her body. His heart stopped for just a second. But her hand clutched at the dagger and it wouldn't let go, just like Yato who was holding her firmly in place.

"I know that no matter what you say, you like her; she wasn't a part of the plan—not your plan, anyway. Still, you engaged her, got close to her, long before you knew we needed her. You simply liked her, even if she was on the side of us useless patriots. See?" Holding her still, he pulled his sword out. "You feel rage. I told you I was an expert at throwing my opponent in confusion. Let's see how—AH!"

All Saito saw and heard was red—_her_ red; his rage waged inside him and he wanted to tear him from limb to limb…! But then he noticed how she struggled, he saw her dagger protruding from Yato's thigh. What a smart, good girl; she gave him his window back.

"HAAAH!"

He rushed forward and she, facing his way, ducked immediately!

Finally Yato was open. The force of the hit was so strong the sword penetrated his shoulder, broke the wall behind him! But he had managed to move away, just in time and Saito missed his heart. He didn't give up though; hatefully, with all his might, he took the sword out grating on the wound! Yato raised his sword and Saito moved to parry but it was a sly blow, redirected straight at his side. He slashed him…! Saito didn't care; he clasped the man's hand that was holding the sword and kept him immobile. He tried to fight, but Saito simply pushed the dagger further in with his leg.

The pain seized Yato; he started falling to his knees, unable to wriggle free no matter how much he tried! He kicked once more, this time on the chin, sending his head flying backwards; he squeezed his hand so much that he heard fingers break! Finally letting go of his hand, the sword fell with him. He fell on his back, crying in pain, trying to get away. He stepped on his chest, stopping his meaningless effort to flee.

With extra pleasure, he impaled him, right through the thoracic cage! The cracking of the bones felt so satisfying to hear no matter his own large gush…forgetting about him in a matter of seconds, he was by Tokio's side.

She had sensed it; in that split moment, she had sensed his hostility and knew he was going to attack her. She purposefully angled herself higher, standing on her toes and falling back, to avoid the killing blow. She misjudged his intentions though and he didn't go for her throat; she might have made it worse.

She tasted blood mixed with her spit and she wanted to gag; but she couldn't scream—she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. He then pulled his sword out and oh god did it hurt! She almost fell forward, but he didn't let her: he kept her there by her hand that he kept twisting, making her look at Saito on purpose. But she couldn't; and no matter how much he twisted her hand, she was still holding on to her dagger! She thrust it deep into his flesh with all of her remaining power!

She heard his cry of pain and knew she hit home! Just then, Saito spurred into action and the movement caught her eye; she should duck.

More like giving up on standing instead of actually making an effort, she fell to her knees; Saito passed right next to her and stabbed the man. Blood rained down upon her. All she could see was her mother, the first time she ever coughed blood and it sprayed all over Tokio's face. She shuddered and she shook. Her breath caught; she wanted to go, she had to! She didn't want to be here…but her legs wouldn't carry her away. They felt too heavy to move. The more she panicked the more her breathing worsened.

He saw her sitting on the floor favouring her right side while clutching her wound, trying to stop the bleeding somehow; the other hand's elbow tried to support her weight and not collapse on the floor! She breathed heavily and her eyes were half-closed. After his sword was once more at his side, he crouched down next to her. "Tokio, can you speak?"

His voice drove her back to reality and her ugly situation. "…it hurts…though…"

_She's lost a lot of blood and I think he broke her arm, too_, he observed, as the one on the floor seemed like to be somehow out of place. He put his arm around her, allowing her to lean on him, to relieve the excess strain. "Where's that family doctor you keep talking about?"

She gestured with her hand to leave this room but for some reason it hurt; he picked her up immediately. "In your room?" She nodded; the more the gestures the more she felt her consciousness slipping; he noticed so he made hurry. "In a drawer?" She nodded affirmatively again. "Does it have an address?"

She could barely make out his words, just barely.

She gave another positive nod and fell completely on his chest. Oh, his was completely uninjured; that was good. But so much blood, why? Oh, it was hers; that was strange. She could hear his heartbeat like this, too; it was elevated. Hers was slowing down though. But it was such a calming thing to hear, she didn't want to leave. He smelt of blood and metal though; she hated that smell. Wait…it wasn't his—it was coming from her! That was unprecedented.

She kept clutching at her side though and all she felt was something wet at her fingers; maybe she shouldn't be so surprised. She hadn't dared look but she was sure it was blood. Why was she bleeding again? Oh yes, she had cut her finger when chopping radishes; and then he came around and took care of it. Of course, he was taking care of her.

Saito-san was a capable man. She could sleep in peace now.

He felt her head on his chest. "Tokio?" she didn't respond to his urgency. "Tokio," his voice was more commanding than before, but still no response. He checked her pulse; faint, but there.

_Let's keep it that way._

He found the piece of paper with the doctor's name and address; luckily, he knew where his practise was located. It wasn't too close, but he could make it. With her in his arms, he sprinted—but stopped a little too suddenly when that man he saw from outside the window with the "leader" of the shishi tried to gang up on him. Well, he'd kill them anyway, but now he knew they had to die: they saw him trying to help her, while she was supposed to be on their side.

He put her down carefully; he took out his sword. The moment he took his stance, they attacked! With a swift, deep slice both men fell to the floor, their bellies open and gushing red. He made sure they were dead; he picked her up again and ran.

Just as he was about to walk out, none other than his friend and Shinsegumi first squad leader, Okita, appeared with some of his men. No better timing. He blurted out requests and reports the moment he came close: "You take care of things here for me, please; I have successfully intercepted all five men residing in the inn and one that came from outside. Anyone else I don't know about. I'm taking this woman to the doctor but I'll be back the soonest possible."

"As you wi-" the tall man was gone "…sh Saito-san. My, it must be very serious if Saito-san is so curt. I wonder who that person he was holding was; someone innocent certainly." He nodded to his men, always smiling. "Let's make him proud; keep your guard up and head inside the ryokan," he ordered, leading the infiltration team.

.

.

.

It was bright; closed as they were she could still feel the sun rays probing at her eyes and heating up her skin. She couldn't decide if she liked it or not; on one hand it warmed her. On the other, it stirred her consciousness and the headache that came with it was unbearable. Also, she felt inhumanly tired and she really wanted to sleep a hell lot more. She should just lie perfectly still and pretend—

"I see you're finally awake, Tokio-chan."

She groaned.

Damn it! She must have moved and he noticed. Of course she knew whose company she was keeping; that older man's voice with the pitch that always betrayed happiness to see her awake, belonged to her doctor. He wasn't that old, nearing forty; he always had a dull look on his face, like nothing was ever interesting. But if he was there then that only meant two things: she was either in her room and he was visiting or she was at his place, being taken care of. She was too lazy to check which was true.

"Come now child, open your eyes. See the wonderful world around you."

"Ugh, those words coming from you sound very wrong," she snubbed her doctor; stubbornly she didn't open her eyes, though the sleepiness was almost gone. "Where am I?"

"Open your damn eyes and look around you, girl!"

"I've told you thousands of times not to call me girl, old man!" Ah, shit; she got upset and glared at him; he had it his way after all. Like a child, she pouted and looked away. But the sharp movement hurt her. "Ah," she breathed and her hand instinctively reached out!

The doctor swatted it away like a fly.

"Don't touch; it's still raw! I've bandaged it up but no contact is the best contact."

"Oh…" She looked down at herself and saw it—**and** felt it: bandages covered all of her middle and a little higher while there were red patches where the wound was…so the doctor didn't try to scare her. "I wasn't dreaming after all; humph, nightmaring more like it…wait—that's not even a real word."

His blue eyes grew solemn. "It isn't Tokio-chan. I think you lost more blood than we realised; I'll go g—!"

"Very funny doctor." She attempted to sit up – oh, she was at his place, after all – but once more, the doctor forced her to lie down. And his annoyingly long hair was getting in her nose! She wanted to pull them. "What the hell—just let me do what I want?"

She sneezed! _Oh my god, the pain! _And not just that, she felt blood spurting out…One of these days she'd chop all of it off! All of his black, too-taken-care-of locks he was so proud of. And then she'd frame them and give them to him to add insult to injury.

"See, you aggravated it!" He patted her head. "Also, though not broken, your right arm is sprained so don't force your weight on to it."

She hadn't had the chance to realise it for herself because he made her lay back down, but when she attempted to make a fist, her hand hurt. That was also when she noticed it was bandaged as well. "It's my good hand, too," she lamented, holding it out in front of her.

"Uuuuuh, Tokio-chan, if you don't mind my asking, what happened last night?"

He said last night; that meant she didn't sleep for more than some hours. She was no doctor but she's spent enough of her life next to one and knew it to be a good thing. She tried not to think about what he asked though; she averted her eyes, putting her hand down. "Stuff."

"What stuff?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Why not? I treated you, young lady!"

"Well, know I do mind your asking then, and I have no intention of explaining myself!" She was so angry, not only did she shout she even raised herself up a little! Ugh, she was hurting again.

"I don't care if you mind my asking it's only an expression people use! Just tell me what happened."

She plopped down sighing, not really wanting to share any of these. In truth, it wasn't the sharing part she minded all that much; it was the all 'having to think about it again now that I'm lucid' part she dreaded. Still acting like a disgruntled child, she puffed up her cheeks not saying a word. "I may not be your father, but I practically raised you, too so spill. Are you involved in something dangerous? Do you need any help with the inn? Is it a money issue? Is it a man issue? Are all of them together?" he attempted the last line when he saw her completely unwilling to participate.

Her silence popped him a vein!

"Look here," he said so absolutely, she couldn't help but indulge him "a man I don't even know waltzed in here, carrying you, covered in your blood but very little of his own, asking me to help you. He then proceeded to tell me all of the expenses would be covered by the Shinsegumi with no explanation whatsoever and he'd had to leave but he'd be back to check on you.  
True to his word, he returned some hours later and asked me how you were; and today, another man, wearing a Shinsegumi uniform came and left me an envelope with money in it and a note saying I shouldn't speak of this to people!"

She looked at him so surprised he started wondering if she actually knew how she got the wounds. "What happened to you Tokio?"

"Arita-sensei, don't fret so much; it'll give you bald spots. Hey, I see one already. It's right there, next to your temple. Oh wait; that's your ear."

"Tokio!"

She giggled. "Okay, okay; I'll talk." She took a deep breath; ah, even that hurt. How was she supposed to _be_ from this day forward? "The man who rushed me here was Shinsegumi, too; he stayed at the inn. He was spying on the patriots' plans. Apparently he was successful and all hell broke loose. I got wrapped up in a fight despite my best wishes and ended up here."

"You mean to tell me you were somehow related to that big slaughter yesterday night? Wait—the shishi were those people I treated at the inn?" He started getting angrier now. "Hadn't I told you to get rid of them the moment they got better? They looked like trouble from the start; and now look at this! Who was it that stabbed you?"

"…the one with the serious face."

"Stupid girl," he hissed and hit her upside the head. "They could have killed you."

"Humph, they certainly tried."

She shouldn't have said that. She should not have said that. He looked like he was about to get up and strangle her himself. "I'll—!"

"Arita-sensei, where is Takeru?" she just realised he was supposed to be here.

"Don't you change the subject…! But he's fine; the man that brought you here had brought Reika-chan with him and she took him to the ryokan. Oh where is he now? I should buy him a drink—_you_ should definitely buy him a drink next time you see him."

Her cheeks became so red she didn't even know she had the ability to produce that shade. "Yeah, I'll keep it in mind. Meanwhile, you should consider come living at the inn for a while; you can take care of me there and change my bandages whenever."

She didn't blame Saito for anything. He had warned her to stay away yesterday, told her it was dangerous. He'd even asked her to leave the inn for the night—but she refused to do so because they might have suspected something. Also, it was her own damn ryokan; no one would drive her away from her home no matter the reason. She wasn't supposed to leave that room he put her in, also but that damn shishi running inside scared her! She ran out to meet him, but Yato ran into her first.

Yato.

He was dead. She remembered very vividly how…Saito had dispatched him. It was gruesome; it was violent; it was also very quick. Aku soku zan, indeed. But there was so much blood…she could also understand the rumours. The third squad captain wasn't forgiving, that's for sure.

But what infuriated her—truly infuriated her was the whole thing with Yato attacking her. He had believed her. He had honestly actually believed her. He didn't attack her because of her betrayal or whatever, but simply because he thought it could anger his enemy! Just because he thought Saito was attracted to her, bam, kill her.

Ugh, at least Takeru was safe and so was Reika-chan and everyone else at the inn. She truly needed to thank Saito. He was a good man. Ironically, she remembered the exact moment she thought about that before and her stomach did a flip. She was passing out but she had felt extremely safe, like she knew she'd be alright, just because he was there. He was reliable, she knew, but this was a little too much trust from her part and she didn't even know why. All blood that wasn't spilled, rushed to her cheeks!

"What are you thinking about?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what are you thinking about? You asked me to come over and then suddenly zoned out and started blushing."

"I didn't zone out…! I'm just thinking about the man that stabbed me."

"Where is he?"

"Six feet under." Silence. "That's a good thing."

"I didn't say it wasn't. Anyway, the man that brought you here," he continued supposedly indifferent "who is he? What's his name? What's your relationship with him? Why did he help you? How long have you known him? Why do you think he paid for you?"

She stared. "Anything else you might want to ask? If he has a dog or his birthday?"

"Just answer my questions."

"I love how you tried to be all nonchalant about it, too," she continued, like she hadn't heard him.

He rolled his eyes. "Answer me, Tokio."

"His name is Hajime Saito." The recognition of the name was immediate; ah good, she wouldn't have to explain too much. "I helped him catch the patriots…in a manner. I've known him nearly a month, as long as he stayed at the ryokan. And he paid just to upset me! I mean, I can take care of a bill. But, that's just his character, you know. Well, you don't; I do. Take my word for it. We're-"

She stopped. What are they? Acquaintances; partners in crime…? Friends? The first one seemed lacking. If she spent a whole night sleeping next to him she was far more than that! Yet…they weren't friends, not really. They were friendly with each other but there was so much weird stuff going on between them she didn't know what to call him; she definitely respected him...maybe she should just call him a friendly face; yes, that seemed accurate. After all, she helped him through something but it was all under a lot of stress and pressure.

She bet she wasn't the first person to help him like this anyway—he must have had impromptu partners before. Maybe not to this extent but…she just had this feeling she wouldn't be seeing him again. And that made her sad.

"Tokio? You just spaced out again. You're what?"

"We're friendly acquaintances."

"Aha. So when did you turn him down; and _why_? He seems not only capable to take care of you but also of good character."

She looked at him lost; he completely misinterpreted her! "What are you talking about, Arita-sensei?"

He looked at her just as lost; yes, there was an error in communication. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what makes you think he…? I wouldn't…he didn't…" she wasn't making any sense. She shook her head and looked at him. "You seem to think he was interested in me. Romantically."

"Isn't he?"

"No," she chuckled out at the absurdity of it all "what makes you think that?"

"Oh, just the fact he sounded very worried about you and he even kept his word to come back to check even if he is the third squad captain and probably had a million more things to do last night. Also, the relief on his face when I told him you'd recover well and how he'd thought about Takeru though he had no reason to."

"Arita-sensei, that's called being a proper person; I wouldn't have liked him and by extension helped him if he weren't." She shook her head like she'd just heard the most unbelievable thing. "I think you misjudged his intentions. Besides, he won't be coming back after he made sure I was alright."

At the doctor's questioning look she just shrugged. "His job is done, what would bring him back? If you're right even a little bit, maybe he returns but he won't exactly because he was just being friendly." That hurt a little to say out loud though she couldn't really understand why. A part ofher realised she wanted him to be back. She decided not to think anymore. "So, will you come at the inn to take care of me?" He gave her that look that said 'do you even have to ask'. "Great; now are you going to tell me what is up with me or do I have to drag it out of you?"

"Thankfully it turned out to be a case of 'looks worse than it is'. No vital organs were damaged internally, but that through-and-through will take a while to heal."

"Huh…? So I'll have a scar now, too." She remembered how she had told Saito not to be too reckless and now this happens. She chuckled. "This is what I get, I suppose. Come, let's go."

"Oh, you won't be leaving this bed for the rest of the day; lie back down. I'll tell you when it's allowed."

The truth was that she was perfectly capable of getting out of bed by sundown, but Saito had asked the doctor to keep her there, discreetly; he wanted to get all the people who worked at the ryokan back, clean up the mess and patch up anything destroyed. He'd even sent men over, not Shinsegumi of course, to help with whatever was needed. The dead bodies were long gone, naturally.

He wanted to do this for her…as a parting gift.

He wasn't a simpleton. He knew the only reason she was injured, was due to her connection with him. If he hadn't relied on her for help, if he hadn't shown his interest, this would never have happened. And his strategy for her to remain unharmed was completely ineffective. Yato was convinced she was on their side but for that one possibility for him to leave alive, he was more than willing to sacrifice a comrade. But he couldn't lay the blame on Yato and be over with it, or else this would happen again; it was _his_ fault. He should have never shown one of his weaknesses; he enjoyed the game with her too much and put her in danger.

And this was the perfect chance to walk away and keep her safe from him and his interest. If word got out the third squad captain was sweet one some woman, that woman would never see the light of day again. But all the men who knew that are now dead, he made sure. And if Yato ever communicated with anyone Saito didn't know about and were at some level aware of Tokio, he knew she wouldn't hesitate to contact him.

It was an emotionally difficult decision, but logically easy. He would leave her alone.

The first week wasn't difficult. He had all these matters and paperwork to take care of, he barely had time to look up. What with all the extra nightshifts – on the lookout for any surprise attacks by the many shishi that escaped them, especially Battousai – and the long mornings of filing incident reports for Hijikata and reading some of his own, there was no time to think.

The more into routine he fell, the worse it became though. He realised with a start, his routine had changed for that short while, it had become ordinary but somehow special, and it was too boring now without her. He missed watching the way her nose did that thing when something bothered her or how she'd first pout then start yelling when people presumed to tell her what to do.

Though, he noted with an odd pride, _he_ got her to listen to him.

The third week was the worst. He was always keeping tabs on her, concerned for her health as he was, but as the reports of her status kept coming more and more each day, his desire to see her for himself grew instead of diminishing. Reports said she was healing just fine; the doctor now left her residence; customers have finally stopped asking if something is wrong with her because she was walking properly again. Takeru was now working in the kitchen and she was happy. The staff ceased to tip-toe around her, afraid she was going to break. Her hand was completely free of any bandages.

He wanted to see that for himself. He was tired of people telling him what she looked or felt like. He knew he shouldn't go talk to her or he shouldn't even make it obvious he is searching for her in a crowd; no matter how much it pained him to stay away, he wouldn't do those things, he'd promised. He only wanted to lay eyes on her. His last image of her was Tokio bleeding on the floor, looking terrified. And then she just fainted in his hands. He had never felt such utter helplessness and desperation before, it ate, tore at him.

He just needed this reassurance and he'd never do this again.

.

.

.

Tokio was sitting alone at a local restaurant; she was tired of cooking for other people, even for herself. She wanted to be served instead of doing the serving. She chose to visit this quaint establishment because Arita-sensei had assured her they made the best chicken dishes in the whole city! Chicken was her favourite; he knew how to lure her. She also knew that one of his latest flirts worked here, as a server—his real reason for referring her. He was always looking for the one though he changed his mind about what sort of person that was every two months.

_No wonder he is still unmarried…_

Oh dear; she sounded like Saito in her head…the same one who never visited. She knew he wouldn't be back; his job was finished and so was whatever they had with it. She vaguely asked herself if she could be labelled as a "flirt" of Saito's. Just like sensei's flirts, she also heard no word from him after everything was said and done. She didn't even get to thank him for Takeru…not that she sought him out. Her pride was too much and so was her shame for getting in his way.

Also, she couldn't say she liked how easily he had killed all those people, but at least she wasn't scared, only a little skittish about it.

Sighing, she mentally scolded herself for thinking these things. She only wanted to eat the food she ordered…which would be easy actually, if not for the unbelievable fact that Saito had just walked in; he was right there, he sat opposite her!

He had his back turned, sitting next to the window. He didn't even come sit with her…oh wait; she was partially covered by this paper half-wall thingy in front of her. But he was supposed to be the vigilant third squad captain, he didn't notice her? Well, she _was_ looking away herself when he came in, she only saw him when he went to his seat.

He looked extremely nice in that shinsegumi uniform, too...

Suddenly, she had a thought; she stopped one of the servers that passed her. "Excuse me," she drew attention "can I ask for something?"

"Certainly."

"You know the man that's sitting right over there?" she showed with her eyes.

"Saito Hajime-san? Yes; he's a regular here."

He was a, what here? "Right." If the motive behind her sensei suggesting her to this place was this after all, she wouldn't be surprised. "Can you get him a bowl of soba?"

The girl looked at her wondered. "A bowl of soba; a plain bowl of soba?"

"Yes."

"As you wish," she agreed, confused on why one would choose to treat someone to something but choose the cheapest item of the menu.

"After you do, could you please get my plates there as well?"

"Oh, I'm sorry ma'am; we aren't allowed to do that without his consent."

Stupid; of course he'd be careful. "Tell him it was me that bought him the soba and ask him if he'd want me to join him. If he says yes, get my plates there."

"Alright," she said in the end and left.

She couldn't watch; she felt her pulse quicken and her stomach hurt and it wasn't because she was hungry. Her palms started feeling sweaty; she was distinctively looking everywhere but him…till five minutes later when:

"I see you're dinning out alone," he drawled. She looked up startled to see him sit opposite her with his ever-lasting smirk. He was carrying the bowl of soba she'd ordered for him. "True to your name, ever the spinster."

"Saito-san!" She exclaimed his name in a very scolding manner; her cheeks became so red she couldn't feel anything but heat. But she found her composure. "You haven't seen me in weeks and that's the first thing you say to me? I'm wounded."

"Not anymore."

The atmosphere turned serious abruptly. She tried to make it lighter. "It doesn't hurt anymore; it's developing into a scar now…you won't be the only one with those anymore."

He tried to smile but didn't really succeed. "It isn't something I am proud of."

"Are you kidding? You love your scars."

"I wasn't referring to mine."

She turned away in 0.2 seconds; what was with him? Why didn't he act like he usually did? If he didn't want to be in her company he only had to decline her offer—but he actually came to her! So why was he so…solemn? It was out of place and it made her upset. The waiter came then, bringing her orders, getting her out of the difficult spot. She busied herself with finding her chopsticks and looking at her dish. She noticed with the edge of her eyes, he was waiting for her to start eating.

They broke their chopsticks at the same time. "Let's eat," they said respectfully and started their meal. They ate in silence for some time, but it wasn't a dead silence: full of furtive glances and covert stares from both parties, it said more than if they had held an actual conversation. He was much more skilled of course, so she didn't catch him doing it.

After a while, she put her chopsticks down, though she was far from finished; he followed her example. She had to say this, no matter what. She was even more nervous than before, but she couldn't stop now. Pulling as much air as she could in her lungs, she tried to calm a little to say:

"Are you angry at me Saito-san for not listening to you? I know I, um, rushed out of that room when you told me to stay hidden, but I saw a shishi come dangerously close and I thought he'd see me! So I ran. I sort of panicked, but just a little. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause so much trouble for you."

He looked at her, his eyes small and his brows creased. "Is that why you think I haven't come by?"

She swallowed, looking at the side. "Yes."

He snorted; slowly, it turned into a chuckle. In the end he was laughing, as politely as he could, turning not just her eyes but some of the costumers as well. When his mirth subsided, he looked at her again but now she could see it, that usual cunning twinkle in his eye.

"I am not angry at you, Tokio, not at all."

At those words, the oddest feeling of relief washed over her, lightening a load off her shoulders.

"Is that why you bought me the soba," he teased "to get back to my good graces?" He took her silence as a yes. "But…just soba?"

"The treat is a thank you for getting me to the doctor," she said emphatically "but it downgraded to plain soba because you didn't come around to see me at all. I was the one who was hurt, so you should be making the visit."

"Sadly for you, plain soba is my favourite dish," he lied a little too well, never mentioning the fact he always knew what her condition was, even from afar "so I don't really understand your punishment."

"There's no way plain soba is your favourite; it's no one's favourite."

"Well, it's mine."

She stared as if trying to catch him on a lie but he didn't let her see through it; he simply went back to his eating; she grimaced superiorly at him and did the same.

"So are you going to tell me why you didn't drop by?"

"We're eating now. Be quiet."

"I'm not being chatty; it's one question…"

"I don't like talking when eating."

"You're talking now."

Smiling, he decided to remain silent for the rest of the meal, digging into his food; she tightened her jaw, but respected his wishes. Then, as if to make a point, she took a bite with her chopsticks, way too slowly and brought it to her mouth in the same fashion. She chomped. She chewed almost emphatically. Then she did it again; and again; and again, until she was actually eating.

While he was eating his soba, he put it down for a moment. As she reached for something other than her chicken, he stole a mouthful of it, right out of her plate! She saw; her eyebrow raised but in the end said nothing. The second time he did it, she pretended she didn't see altogether even if both knew she had. When even the third time she acted like nothing happened, he gave himself new permission to do as he liked with all her plates.

After both meals were over, they respectfully chanted "thanks for the meal" and put their chopsticks down.

"Did you like the chicken?"

"It may not be my favourite soba, but it was very tasty."

They both smiled at an unspoken joke. "I'm asking because I was told this place had the best chicken in town. Do you agree?"

"Yes, do you?"

"I haven't had better, at least not from someone else other than myself."

He was pleasantly surprised at that. "You can cook better than that, spinster girl?"

"Yes, but only for people who don't call me that."

He almost chuckled; he deserved that. "Fair enough," he admitted and wiped at his mouth. "Excuse me, I have to be going. Thank you for the treat."

Widening her eyes, she tried to either complain or stand up with him, but his raised hand stopped her; she sat back down.

"But you haven't—!"

"Goodbye Tokio," he interrupted "it was nice seeing you."

He walked away, leaving her behind, stricken; he really wanted a future with this woman, but at the same time he just couldn't put her in harm's way because of his feelings…she obviously cared for him at some degree or else she wouldn't be annoyed at him not being there. It made him happy to see that but all the more difficult. He even tried to lie, but the words wouldn't come, they persisted at the back of his throat. Why couldn't he lie to her? He'd promised himself, he'd made up his mind. This had never happened to him before—was she really so important to him?

Yes, she was.

=:=:=:=

.

=:=:=:=

"Saito-san, who is Takagi Tokio?"

He turned to Okita a little more than surprised, almost panicked at the question. He wouldn't look like it to anyone else but him, who has spent the most time with him and was aware of the slightest of movement, no matter how small. For instance, he perceived the momentary raising of the eyebrows. He was caught off guard.

"Where did you hear that name?"_ who was the one who talked_ he should have asked; he only had his hand-picked men give him reports about her, he should find the one who spilled the beans.

"I asked a man at the market the other day; she was buying vegetables in the company of a young boy. But you already know that, don't you? After all, I wouldn't have been keen to know her name if you hadn't been so interested in her."

Saito remained silent; he would definitely give, whoever it was, a very creative punishment. Not anything too creative though—bureaucracy was far too brutal especially when coupled with another thing or two.

"Come now Saito-san, don't look so sorrowful; you think I wouldn't notice?" The mentioned man finally spared him a good look. "We've been going around in circles of her inn since we started patrolling together; I've seen many of your men come around this place at odd times; and this is the same place you lived with those patriots.

And let's not forget how you keep staring at her from a distance every time she shows up, even if you never really go to her. You just follow her with your eyes everywhere and I notice how your hand keeps twitching whenever she almost drops something or missteps."

Saito was internally panicking by now. He had no problem with Okita knowing in particular, but it was the fact _he noticed_ that worried him; if he did, who else might have had? Also, he didn't even realise he was doing all those things! How could he do things he didn't understand he was doing them? Sweat beaded at his forehead.

"You really care for her; don't you Saito-san?"

He decided to state a vague fact; he swallowed saliva. "There's been an increased activity of patriots around the inn and she's the owner."

"There's been an increased activity of them everywhere, not just the inn but you chose to go there" he countered. But Saito looked at him reproachful. "Ooh, I see; Shinsegumi and what not," he immediately caught on to his problem. "But you know, Saito-san, I always thought that if there was one of us who could make it that would be you; you have an uncanny ability of persevering."

"What about the part where she gets hurt?"

Okita smiled. "I don't know. But I wish you could do it; for all of us."

There was a grim silence that ensued, it scared Saito; it foreboded something bad for him. "Don't talk like you're an old man, brat," he snapped; the first captain was amused.

"Then you shouldn't act like one either."

And with that, he left him to his thoughts, walking briskly away.

* * *

**A/N**: The "let's eat" and "thanks for the meal" are the "ittadakimasu" and "gochisou sama deshita" which I translated because I haven't used any phrases in Japanese in this story, so it would feel weird if I suddenly started using them...but I thought I should leave this here.

As always, thank you for reading! Please leave a review to tell me what you thought about it-all the good and the bad. Bye for now~!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: Miura's protection was given to the Shinsegumi, leading to the Tenma-ya incident. Saito was the one in charge helped by another man whose name I cannot recall. I changed the dates a bit but it did happen! As did the part about the Nijo castle and the Mito clan. I studied the events but stretched history enough to suit my story xD I hope you enjoy this chapter and it builts well the suspense for the next one!

Thank you for the suggeston about the Jdrama, I had no idea! I'll be seeing it in a very short while. Thank you all who reviewed and alerted, too, you keep me going!

I don't own RurouKen.

* * *

It was the cold night of November 22 when Saito seriously entertained the thought of revenge for the first time. He was ready to leave on a patrol, dressed in all formality as usual, when Okita who was supposed to leave with him noticed a discarded but neatly folded piece of paper on the ground, right next to the lamp post of their headquarters. He picked it up idly and looked at both sides: one was white. The other bore two words in beautiful handwriting: Saito Hajime.

"It's for you."

Disinterested, Saito accepted it. He had received more than a dozen threats to his life; strange how none managed to deliver. He opened the note and started reading; but the more he read, the more his attention was captivated. In the end he stopped and handed it back to Okita with a very different kind of look in his eyes: his calm was never disturbed but there was something dark about his countenance.

"Can we identify who left this?"

"I'll ask around but I don't think we'll narrow it down; I was the only one who noticed, just now, but it looks like it was stepped on so it must be here a while."

"I see; read the note. Then tell Bando-san I will need something from down there."

"Bando-san—our guard at the holding cells?"

He nodded affirmatively. "Just read."

He did; Okita's eyes grew wide and looked up at the man next to him immediately! "What—?" Saito then took off, making it very clear he didn't want to be followed. Okita understood, allowed him his space and then followed at a safe distance, just to ask: "Where are you going?"

"To the Takagi ryokan; tell a couple of men to follow ten minutes from now," came the swift reply, just before he took a right turn and disappeared into the crowd.

Okita sighed. "I hope everything turns out for the best…"

He folded the note again and put it in his sleeve. The beautiful black letters of the person who wrote it didn't betray the ugliness of his heart at first glance; only when one read it could know:

_We have the girl. She's a very good guest we'd hate to see her go._

_But if you really want her back, we're willing to part with her if you're willing to part with Tatsugoro Keiichi._

_If you accept, be at the northern bridge tomorrow at midnight; if you don't, de sure to come by the bridge sometime later to pick up her pieces._

Saito ran faster than ever; the burning at his lungs didn't bother him—the more it burned, the more the effort, meaning the sooner he'd get there, to verify. He wanted this to be a lie. He even hoped it was a trap and someone was luring him at a place where he'd be alone and strike! He even preferred this to be another sort of trap, like one that lied they kidnapped his important person just so he could run to her and essentially have him show them who the important person was. Even that was preferable because he'd know, and then move her to safety…!

When he reached the inn, he saw the first bad sign: all lights were on and people could be seen coming and going frantically. He entered and behind the stone walls was revealed a large group of people, running around, looking distressed. He immediately recognised Reika, sitting on a bench in the garden; but she wasn't alone. There were two people supporting her, holding her hands. Two of the three older women from the kitchen were standing stoically on either side of the open sliding door. And then, there was Takeru at a far corner, searching for something.

He decided to go to Reika…but it wasn't a matter of choice: the moment they saw him, at least five people ran to him! "Shinsegumi-san, please help us find her!" That was it; now he was certain.

"We have no idea where she is."

"And she's been missing for half a day!"

Despite the bombardment, he had to say this; he tried really hard not to snap at them. "Why didn't you contact us sooner?"

"She was supposed to be out on errands till late! But she didn't come home when she said she would so, after an hour, we went looking for her. She wasn't where her final appointment was, but not just that; she hadn't been there at all! So we retraced her steps from the start of the day and we concluded she's been unaccounted for since three. It's nearly ten now!"

"Please, please find her! The last place she's been at was the lawyer's office."

He considered. "And before that?"

"Arita-sensei for her check-up."

"What's the name of the lawyer?"

"Tanaka Hirota. He's a good man; you should go talk to him."

He didn't know the name but he didn't like how the last place she'd been was a lawyer's practise, especially since she seemed to think too little of them when they spoke; also, somehow the attackers knew her schedule-suspicious. He looked around, trying to think; instead, he spotted the young boy trying to conceal a weapon!

"Takeru, take me to Tanaka Hirota." He saw he heard him by his reaction. "The rest of you get back inside; next time anything happens send for me immediately," he scolded no one and everyone, but Reika felt it was directed to her and started tearing up. "Neverhteless, try to act like nothing is out of the ordinary; instruct the guests to do the same, if they know what has happened and make sure they talk to none."

People nodded and others alerted Takeru and brought him there. It wasn't five minutes later, when they were alone, that he asked the boy: "what's your opinion of the lawyer?"

"M-mine?" He was astounded; none had ever asked for his view on anything before and meant it; and the serious expression on his face left no room to think he was joking. "I don't like him. He smiles too much. He reminds me of _our_ lawyer…"

Saito feared that. "I'll keep it in mind." He saw the boy puff up like a peacock. "Did you partake in the search?"

"I did! We've been around the whole town but we still didn't see her. You think…" he hesitated. "You think the lawyer is guilty?"

"I think trying to conceal a weapon from a Shinsegumi is juvenile; give me the dagger." He opened his palm flat.

"What…dagger?"

"The one in your sleeve." Defeated, the boy gave it up…only a little too readily. Hmm? "And the other one," he took a guess.

"No! Why? Don't I deserve to get back at those who took her? Shouldn't I revenge her?"

He knew Takeru was projecting his parents' death onto her but he truly couldn't blame him. "What we deserve and what we get are very different things. But you'll get her back so you won't have to. Now give me the dagger."

"Do you promise she'll be back alive?"

"I do." There wasn't the slightest hint of a lie in his voice; Takeru decided to do as he asked. Just like the previous one, this dagger was out of sight in seconds. "I'll need you to promise me something, too," he said after a long pause, intriguing the boy. "When we get to the lawyer, you'll wait outside and not come in unless your own life in in danger."

"…why?"

"I can be very persuasive, but only when people aren't looking."

He never thought he'd say that but there he was; the boy didn't seem to know what to do with this piece of information but in the end conceded to his terms. That turned out to be key in the interrogation of the man who under the threat of horrible violence and a taste of very little spilled the beans. He actually confessed to being contacted by and receiving a large sum of money from the patriots; in exchange he told them about her scheduled visit, time and day. What they did with that information he'd said was no concern of his…he was tempted to cut that man open; that was the second time the concept of revenge seemed appealing.

After leaving Takeru back at the inn, he headed straight for the doctor. He wasn't too upset, so he must have had no idea what was happening, though he was awake anyway, so he must have suspected something was wrong. When he recounted what happened, Arita-sensei collapsed. After three glasses of water, the man explained how he was also approached by a man who wanted to know things about Tokio, but he had turned him down immediately. Of course, he thought the man was interested in her romantically nothing like this. Also, he gave a description of the man who came to him but Sito was treated to the most ordinary man ever—nothing about him stood out at all.

Saito was far from satisfied. He had too few leads to proceed and the one was more trivial than the other. He even put people to look for anyone who had come at Kyoto recently since he was certain whoever was behind this hasn't been to Kyoto for long, but even that was a dead-end. He sighed; at least he had the lawyer in custody.

The next day, during and after noon, when no further progress had been made, he realised he had no other option but to meet them.

"Saito-san," Okita "I had to notify the higher-ups about the letter. They said you shouldn't under any circumstances go through with the exchange…but they can extend a couple of days off just for you."

"I understand but the leave won't be necessary; I have to bring her back after all."

"How are you going to do that without the condition they mentioned?"

"What is our job, Okita?"

The question baffled him. "To protect Kyoto and fight the patriots…"

"Exactly. Why should I decline a meeting where I know for a fact at least one of them will be there?"

"But, what will you do about the condition?"

"Follow me," he simply said.

They left immediately, haste in each step; Saito was leading him to the holding cells, a level lower than their current position. When he reached there, he opened the door wide open; there was a guard sitting there who immediately stood up! He saluted the two men.

"You don't have to be so formal, Bando-san," Okita assured him waving his hand.

The cells had an unbearable smell of closeness about them, while stale bodily fluids also littered the air. The cells were set apart from one another by the wooden grill-like bars. Only four of them were occupied: the one that had Tatsugoro Keiichi, the one that had the lawyer and two other criminals. One of them was another rapist and the last one was a killer. They were all opposite each other.

Next to the guard were all of the prisoner's personal effects, such as clothes, shoes and wallets - empty wallets -. All swords and any other weapons they had on their persons were given to the Shinsegumi.

"I'll need to borrow that something from you after all, Bando," Saito requested with an odd smile on his face. Okita looked at him concerned. "Don't worry; you'll see what I have in mind. But don't come with me tonight."

"…as you wish."

.

=:=:=:=

.

She's been in the same dark place for more than half a day, not counting the hours she spent unconscious or asleep. Yesterday, around three, someone ran into her, knocking her over by accident. It wasn't till five seconds later she realised it wasn't that accidental: when he pretended to help her up, a man came from behind and…put something on her nose that knocked the wind out of her lungs! Keeping her eyes open suddenly felt too much of a task; her vision had blurred and nothing was right. She knew her knees gave out when she felt the pain, but it didn't feel like a personal experience; it was as if she watched it happen to someone else.

Before long, she was out of it. When she resurfaced, her head throbbed equally to or even more than someone's who had been pounded repeatedly over the skull. She'd been drugged. She massaged her temples till the pain ebbed away and she was finally able to listen to the loud outside noises without closing her eyes.

And then she waited. She expected someone to come in and explain things to her for a long time: why was she taken? Obviously someone kidnapped her but what was their aim? Was it related to the inn or did they just want ransom? She could piece together some sort of story, too: maybe the patriots had done this to her for retaliation—maybe they found out about her role in the incident. Or it could be they just want her ryokan and they didn't want to ask nicely. But why didn't they just kill her then? Well, there were many people still there so she could be the leverage.

Hopefully, she wouldn't be used as a hostage.

"Wake u-…oh I see you're up already. That's great. Then come on; we need to be going."

She didn't have time to be afraid—and quite frankly she really wasn't. They didn't touch her; not even for a slap. The only unkind treatment was her tied hands behind her back! No one roughed her up or threatened her—only one man came to tell her they have to go. She might not know what time it was, due to the lack of windows, but she was certain it was night.

"Why did you take me?"

"If the boss wants to answer you, he will. Now move," he snapped, trying to push her forward; offended beyond words he'd try to touch her, she retracted herself and moved on her own.

She was led to a well-lit room through a corridor where two men waited: the one seemed just as primitive as the one with her but the other...had an air of elegance about him. He was wearing a very nice kimono and his hair was long and loose. She had to admit he was a handsome man, but oddly, all she wanted to do was punch his pretty face in. But she also noticed he had the most polished sword of the three.

He stood up with slow movements. "Shall we?"

Even his voice was sleek; that annoying bastard. "Where are we going?"

"You want information? Fair enough. Let us start walking and I'll answer some of your questions."

She obeyed. "What are you going to do with me?"

"We will exchange you for one of our own. You're a traitor to our cause anyway."

"Who is "your comrade"? And who'll be making the exchange?"

"His name is Tatsugoro Keiichi," the leader answered after a long pause during which none of the other two dared speak. "He is in prison, captured at the bloodbath not a month ago. We want him back. He was apprehended by none other than Saito Hajime."

"Will be making the exchange as well?"

At her doubtful tone, he turned and looked at her, sly and all-knowing. "But of course…know him?"

Ah, she saw exactly where this was going. And damn it, she was being a burden again! Very superiorly, like he was dirt on her shoes that just had to be expelled, she stared. She now knew two things: one, Tatsugoro was an important person for this man or the patriots in general and two, they chose the worst person to blackmail. "I do know him; he stayed at the inn while hatching his plan against you. And I believe I know him well enough to tell you with certainty he'd never agree to such a thing," came her disdainful answer. "That man would rather see half Kyoto dead before giving up his prisoner."

"That may be so…but do I look like a fool? You think I'd take a useless hostage?" her expression answered "no". "Precisely; if I had to take all of Kyoto hostage to get Tatsugoro back, I would. I am a man who does whatever's necessary…And I did just that."

She narrowed her eyes, as if mistaking his words; at the same time, they stopped in front of a bridge, not crossing it. The two goons got behind her while the leader stayed at the front. "Wait, me? I'm the perfect hostage?" She rolled her eyes, trying to make light of a situation she knew it wasn't. "I think you don't know him at all."

"I think you know him less than you think…how amusing."

"I never claimed to know him _well_," she retorted, a little miffed; it annoyed her how she couldn't cross her hands in front of her chest. "Simply more than you."

"I took extra care to get to know him because he's my enemy."

"I disagree; he won't come. And at the absurd chance he does, he certainly won't show with your comrade," she insisted.

"I disagree with your disagreement."

"Too bad it will be me that is going to be proven right," she continued impetuously.

"You're very stubborn," he observed rather than complained.

She snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."

"…he's coming."

"I told you he won't."

"No, I mean he's coming; I see him." She immediately turned to where he was looking and true enough, there he was! Coming closer and closer to the bridge was Saito and another silhouette next to him, a man. "And there I can see my friend Tatsugoro as well; looks like you were wrong on both fronts, Tokio-chan."

Had it been proper, she'd drop her chin. He actually came; and not just that—he was meeting their terms. Why!? This was ridiculous. Just as she was saying how Saito would never betray his ethics, this happens. And he even stopped right in front of the bridge, just like they had. She could see him a little clearer, but the night still obscured his expression. But the man's next to her wasn't and the satisfaction was far too pronounced to misread. Tokio felt guilty. He knew something like this was the reason Saito had carefully steered away from her—he felt indebted because of the help she provided and now she became means of pressure. She hated this. She would rather…die even, than be used like this!

"Is she harmed?"

That was the first sentence that came out of his mouth. She felt even worse. Especially when he said it with such threat in his tone, as if daring them to answer yes.

"Not a single hair on her hair was touched; let's hear it from her, too."

Oh she had to speak now. "Nothing was done to me," she admitted hastily.

"Very well," Saito sounded pleased "I'll send Tatsugoro Keiichi over as soon as you send her, too. It will happen simultaneously."

"No, he comes first."

"He's faster than her; I just want her the farthest away from you as possible before that happens. I cannot be sure you won't launch a surprise attack as soon as he crosses."

A sinister laugh escaped the man; it wasn't sinister in its own right, but something about the way it was so ordinary yet this man wasn't, made her skin crawl. Still, this was her chance.

"Aahaha, you a-!"

He never finished; Tokio was bored of feeling useless for so long—she'd strike back! Now that the leader was laughing and the flunkies would either follow suit or be less attentive she'd launch her counter-attack and buy Saito some time. She'd been wanting to do something like this ever since they led her outside, but she knew they would catch up to her. But this was perfect! With nothing to indicate she was about to do anything, she lunged forward and onto the leader! All of her weight went into it and he was dragged down with her!

She took everyone by surprise, not just the man she knocked over; the ones behind her were too stunned too react. Saito was the first to recover though; he knew her capabilities. He cut the ties of the prisoner loose and lunged forward.

"Follow me," he commanded!

He crossed the bridge so fast, by the time the man was making efforts to shake off Tokio, he decided he shouldn't—the Shinsegumi captain was right above him and he needed a shield! He watched one of his men fall bleeding to the ground, not dead but not all that alive. When his second man moved to attack Saito's exposed side, he managed a cut…but didn't connect wholly—their own comrade, Tatsugoro Keiichi cut him down!

"What!?"

She was trying to escape; when she saw the patriot's comrade stabbing him, she knew she had to get away! No matter their shock they were meant to recover at any second—especially the man underneath her! She tried to roll away. She heard his sword unsheathe but managed to steer clear in the nick of time! The blade was thrust forward, ripping her kimono, but barely scratching her skin. Thank Buddha for layers! She didn't stop until she was certain she was a safe distance away.

She missed the action though. When she looked up, Saito and their – former – comrade were standing over all three, swords dripping blood. The two appeared to be dead; the one who was leading them was simply unconscious.

"Shinji, take this man back at the headquarters; I'll take Tokio back. Also, wait for Tori who'll be here coming shortly."

"Yes, Saito-taichou."

"I'll be back as soon as I'm able; make sure he's awake when I return."

"As you wish."

The man addressed as Shinji bowed to Saito who in return gave a curt bow. He then turned to a very stricken Tokio – something about the way he was so authoritative and professional made her stare – who looked to be mesmerised by the developments. He gestured for her to move; she straightened her kimono, made sure her hair was somewhat presentable and then started walking towards the direction of the inn.

They walked in silence for a long time. Saito was using that time to think and make up his final mind about Tokio, while she just felt extremely relieved and embarrassed at the same time. Also, that comment about keeping their new prisoner awake till he got there, made her skin crawl. He was surprisingly brutal, or at least very direct. She was struggling to find out if she liked or hated it. Surprisingly, the scales were leaning towards the first.

"You dressed a man as their comrade and pretended to make the exchange; that was brilliant," she finally spoke, trying to shake off a strange feeling.

"I know."

She cracked a smile at his confidence. "You took a risk though."

"Not at all; the darkness of the night hid him and I made sure to use one of my men who matched his height and weight—even the hairstyle. What was risky was what you did. You could have been impaled."

She noticed how his eyes lingered on her torn fabric; she waved his worries away. "I knew what I was doing. The previous time Yato stabbed me I actually managed to avoid damage to any internal organs. I've been taught how to avoid lethal blows by dad."

"That's a very useful skill."

She giggled, trying to somehow take the tension off. "You would know. So anyhow, do you have any idea how Arita-sensei, Takeru and the—?"

"I'm sorry," he said abruptly, stopping her line of thought. She looked at him at the completely unexpected comment. "I put you in danger; forgive me."

He stopped walking, making her follow his example. Then he actually bowed. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words died at her throat, blood rushing to her cheeks. The shock and shame was too big…!

"No, please don't lower your head. If anything, I should be the one apologising. I mixed you up in all of this. They found out I was involved in the incident somehow so they took me hostage because they knew you'd respond." He was about to say something, but she continued, not paying too much attention at him. "You feel responsible because we worked together and you think you made me vulnerable. But it's the other way round and I'm really sorry, too."

She made a deep bow herself and straightened immediately. "I'm really sorry I put you and the Shinsegumi in such a position."

"Tokio…you're wrong."

She looked at him sceptical at that statement.

"I'm not here on Shinsegumi business because this wasn't even sanctioned; we don't negotiate with patriots. You weren't taken because of your involvement, or at least that wasn't the main motive behind their actions but you did nothing to be ashamed of. The fault's mine; this is why they took you."

He produced the note that was left for him at the headquarters. She saw the folded piece of paper and how it read "Saito Hajime" only from one side; she saw there was writing in it; but when she read the note, she could finally understand what he was trying to say. He meant she was taken because of her connection with him, alone. He wanted to say he was the reason she was kidnapped. Holding on to the note, she turned her eyes upwards.

She looked at him for a long time, trying to discern his feelings or even his thoughts. But his poker face was so good she caught nothing but a general feeling of worry. "I don't blame you, Saito-san. But I don't understand…why."

She was so naive; she didn't realise. He graced her with his crooked smile; he couldn't call her humble, yet despite her self-esteem she had low awareness for anything concerning her.

"I'm here tonight for the same reason they took you yesterday. It's the same one Yato chose to target you…you **are** my weak spot." He let it sink in for a moment before he went on. "And they noticed. If you ask Okita, he'll tell you it wouldn't be hard to spot. He says I've been acting too obvious lately but the most annoying part is I tried very hard to stay away from you, to keep you safe. But I couldn't; I may not have come directly to you but…I was always involved with something concerning you. I suppose I'm not as disciplined as I thought."

The casualty of his voice, the matter-of-factly tone, the natural way he described all of this as if it were a phenomenon instead of his feelings…it left her unable to react. Oh how she wanted to scream at him or plainly interrogate him about all the unbelievable things he just said, shake him by the shoulders! Instead, all she managed to do were stare and say: "I guess Arita-sensei was right."

The most important thing was she didn't feel well about this revelation at all. She liked him, yes, she could admit that to herself now, but instead of joy at hearing him say it, too all she felt was "no". She didn't know why…! There was just this feeling like someone was gripping her heart, stopping its expansion for air and she forgot how to breathe properly. She tried to speak, but nothing. She was troubled.

Saito knew she was probably less serious about this than he was; she could see it in her eyes as they reflected an inextricable knot of feelings and protests. Yet he didn't feel ashamed for admitting this to her; he didn't even feel hurt at the rejection he was about to receive. He was simply satisfied to tell her, relieved! And he'd be even more of that once he got it all out of his chest.

"I figured he'd be the first one to notice." He chuckled self-depreciatingly. "Anyway, it seems there's no difference to what may happen to you either I'm close or try to stay away, so, Tokio," the abandon in his voice was overwhelming; something big was coming "I formally ask you to be my wife."

The moment she heard him say it, her heartbeat calmed. She started thinking clearly and a lot more like her. She knew exactly what she felt, what he felt and what was left in between: she liked him; he...loved her apparently. He even asked her to marry him—he was willing to make that commitment. Was she? He was prepared to face the anxiety of coming home and finding your loved one dead or taken; he came to terms with her mortality-and he sure as hell was okay with his. But she wasn't. She wasn't prepared to love a man who would be going away most of the time yet every time walking out could be the last she ever saw him again. She didn't love Saito this very moment anyway-she liked him, but she didn't love him. She cared for him but she wasn't prepared to invest herself comletely in a man who could die at a moment's notice. She didn't want to.

Her smile was rueful, giving him a taste of the answer before it escaped her lips.

"I am of ways and means; I uphold a small community of people all by myself," she started, sounding sombre. "I don't I need financial support or connections thus, should I marry, it'll be out of love. If that's the case, then how could I be expected to marry you? You'll probably die and then I'll be left alone. A young wife and a widow, doesn't seem like a good combination. A dead husband is a no-good husband. Besides, when you marry out of love you don't really want them dead, do you?" She stopped for a moment to catch her breath and allow him some time to think.

"I'm sorry, but I have to decline your offer. Better luck next time Saito-san."

"…your arguments make sense," _in one way_, and even though he'd thought of three different counter-arguments he didn't voice them. He started walking again "even if I didn't expect a debate. But, I accept my defeat. If you'd said yes I'd probably be the first to be married in the whole Shinsegumi anyway; a true miracle."

"How so?"

"For the same reasons I stayed away **and** you rejected me. They don't make the trouble of attaching themselves to a woman."

"…but you did?"

"I am more selfish than them. I guess I'm also less lucky; I know _at least_ three women willing to marry Hijikata."

She turned red! "Please don't look so sad when saying it!"

"You were extra hard with me tonight, I can't help it. Even after I did my best to rid you of that nickname you so much hate, you still spurned me."

She rolled her eyes; if he was teasing her about something like that she wouldn't have to worry. "I didn't spurn you, Saito."

"No, you just broke my heart with your immediate rejection and even told me I'd be dying soon, very nice of you."

They looked at each other with the edge of their eyes. His stare was telling her he was fine with this, no matter the teasing. "What an uncouth behaviour, I should make amends…so how about I offer you free lodging at my ryokan, with all that that entails, for whenever you feel like it. I've learnt how to take care of orphans, so you won't be too much trouble."

"Oh? Will you pour my sake, too?"

"Should you ask nicely…"

"How about: dear owner of the ryokan who rejected my wedding proposal and called me dead man walking, Takagi Tokio, will you pour my sake whenever I am around?"

She chuckled. "That was very nice; you didn't even call me spinster-girl. So I gladly accept."

"Good to know…I'll be stopping by at my earliest convenience."

"Oh right; you said you'd be going back as soon as you were able."

"Yes; I have many things to take care of."

They walked in complete silence for a little while, but she felt uneasy. His eyes weren't wandering and his gait was relaxed, so it wasn't because of him. He was starting to get curious when she said: "…can I ask you something personal?"

"You may."

"Do you get scared when people hurt you?"

"…" He had no idea where that came from but she wanted an honest answer; he had to think about it. "I used to, at first; but that helped me develop my analytical skills even more, so now I immediately start assessing my opponent and ways to stop him that I don't have any time for it."

"Oh. But I…was very scared when Yato stabbed me. I might have reacted fast and everything but that's because I was taught how to do it by father. Still, I thought, I thought I could die. And all that blood—it reminded me the time when mom was ill and I completely lost touch with reality. I wasn't panicking exactly but I felt like I was gone for a moment. I never felt so weak my entire life."

She swallowed and, looking away, she wiped at her cheek as if she was crying. She must have been, even if it didn't translate to her voice. "But you helped," she concluded in the end, when she was sure her voice wouldn't tremble "you took me to Arita-sensei before I bled too much and he says that was paramount. I'm very grateful, even if…I never properly thanked you for that. You are very reliable."

"Is this the first time you talk about this to anyone?"

"…yes."

"I'm honoured." When she realised he wasn't joking, she felt an odd pride. "I was scared when you were stabbed, too, so don't feel too bad."

Her heart did something weird at hearing those words. "…I'm sorry I acted so foolishly," she could only say at his honesty.

"I'm sorry I put you in danger. It won't happen again."

The rest of their trip passed with some banter and jokes, but it came to an end all too soon, as far as Saito was concerned. He didn't think even for a moment she'd say yes but there was nothing wrong with hope and even after the rejection, he enjoyed spending time with her. Still, he left her at the entrance of the inn, behind the walls, instructing her how to handle this. No one should ever speak about this; if any of the guests heard, she should act like they are crazy. She could say whatever lie she could come up with and circulate it—but it'd be best to officially stick to one version and let the rest be rumours. And of course, she should tell her version to the Shinsegumi, to get their stories straight.

"Goodnight Saito; I hope I serve you soon."

"It's going to be a while till that happens, but I'm looking forward to it. Goodnight."

She felt tugging at heart at that comment but not because of what he said; it was the unspoken things that made her feel anxious. Such as: I'll be going away for some time and I don't know exactly when I'll be back but I hope _to get_ to be back…as if there was another, very real alternative that he'd never return. She knew she had just rejected him on those same grounds but when he said it like that it felt like he was slipping away. And she didn't want him to stop coming by, he liked his presence, no matter how selfish that was…she watched him go with a lingering feeling of bitterness.

Did she make the right choice, turning him down? Yes. Her feelings weren't as deep as his so what sort of marriage would that be but…she stopped think then, on purpose. She sighed, walking inside, when she lost sight of him.

.

.

.

"Saito-san, this came for you from the top; you're reassigned immediately."

The moment he walked in, Okita handed him a piece of paper with Hijikata's handwriting, even if it expressed strictly Kondo's will. The new orders he received were absolute: he had go to Miura Yasushi, here in Kyoto, and guard him. But he couldn't leave his side for an attack was imminent. Also, he would have to act like he'd been there since the beginning of this guard-duty, along with the rest of the Shinsegumi members there, since November 18. He would remain to his new duties till further notice.

"At least I get to stay in Kyoto; I won't be making trips back and forth."

"Hmm? Are you referring to the fact our headquarters are here or are you maybe referring to a certain resident of our lovely capital?"

The men smiled. "Both."

Exchanging looks full of meaning the young man realised there was something Saito needed to get off his chest; he may have spoken one word but there was more air in his lungs. Also, he had that expression which he took only when he wanted to share a secret. "You can tell me, whatever it is."

"I was rejected tonight."

"Eh?"

"I made her an offer of marriage; she declined."

"Saito-san, I don't believe you actually…! How brave of you! Did she tell you why?"

"Yes. It didn't help." Okita tried not to laugh at his tone. "But I am glad I did it. She now knows how I see her. I hope she gets to see me that way, too."

"You better start getting ready for your next assignment then; nothing like work to get your mind off of it. And don't worry about the prisoner; Hijikata says he'll handle him himself! They may be reassigning you so hastily because you acted alone, but at least they appreciate the fact you gave them a new source of information and they actually sympathise with you about the girl."

He bowed at his friend. "I'll be going; keep up the good work."

. .

.

It'd been thirty two days since she last laid eyes on him. On that eventful night he'd left with the promise to return for sake. He had warned her it would be a while till then, but she never thought it would take _that _long; she figured a week or maybe two, three at most; but it was officially a month later!

Admittedly, the Shinsegumi was having a very difficult time, what with it being abolished and reformed as a renamed unit with the exact same people, then having some problems with a renounced clan, so she didn't expect that certain day for him to show up under her threshold, twenty five days into December. She really had no idea why, but at this particular day something kept drawing her to the entrance every other hour, or less. The nineteenth time she went to check, there he was, walking through the gates.

"Saito-san," she spoke and bowed her head at the same time "how nice of you to visit us." She hadn't realised how much she missed having him around till she saw him again—just like that time at the restaurant.

"My pleasure."

He walked behind her, as she led him through corridors.

"You are a special guest, so your room will be separated from most; unless of course you prefer another in which case you can tell me but after I show this one to you. It will be yours alone as you'll always use that one, so be sure it is to your liking."

"So long there's a bed in it, I'm satisfied."

"Ever the Spartan I see," she commented amused. "This is the room," she announced after sliding a door open "you may step inside and see it."

It was fairly simple, but the little touches were precious; the scent of lavender reached his nostrils pleasantly. "I like it." What he liked even more was how this room that was kept up to snuff even if he hadn't been around for so long. She must have been maintaining it every other day.

"Very well; do you want to change or maybe go to sleep or should I prepare a meal for you?"

"Don't be so formal with me, Tokio, it feels unnatural."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I've been greeting newcomers for three days straight this past week and I developed a habit apparently; Takeru keeps complaining, too…"

He was glad to hear _that_ was her reason. "How is he doing?"

"He's much attuned with the schedule and hasn't left for a long time; I give him a good allowance so he only leaves to go buy something he likes or meet with kids his age whenever he can. Your idea proved most useful."

"Good to hear."

"He's been asking an awful lot about you, too. I keep trying to explain but I think he doesn't _want_ to believe me." She chuckled and waved her hand. "Anyhow, what will it be? Food, drink or sleep?"

"The first one; and I'd like a bath after that, if it's still available."

"Everything is available at all times, which is why the living quarters are positioned far from anything else; there are bathrobes in your room, too. Is there anything you want to eat in particular?"

He smirked. "Chicken would be great; will you cook it for me, Tokio?"

She recalled that conversation fondly; a smile spread to her lips. "Why not; follow me."

At that time of the night, there weren't many walking around and even fewer who'd want a meal, so the big dining room that was usually full of guests was now bear. That only made his mood even better. They'd be alone, without people's stares and comments; he'd learnt to be wary of "people" and their cruel anonymity that many times in his life he'd seen that anonymity destroy respectable individuals. And when she cooked his food, sat next to him and started pouring sake per his request, he was relieved there was no one around to see it. She'd been unhurt till now since he was gone, no need to break that streak now.

"You look thoughtful," she noticed, pouring his second cup "what's on your mind?"

"…never mind that; tell me how you have been this past month."

"Oh, fairly well; we have our work cut out for us but that's only a good thing. We grow tired and compalin but it's all in the moment. Reika-chan has been a little too attached lately though. And so has Arita-sensei! He's been coming over to check on me every. _Day._ He lost his girlfriend like that; she thought he had found another one here and cheated on her." she first chuckled and then sighed. "Some people are so easy to feel jealous; I could swear they were doing it on purpose."

"Not every woman or man is confident in their significant other, which only reveals it's their own characters or virtues they have no confidence in. Not everyone can be confident. There are those, of course, who have multiple affairs because they feel like it, but they are far less than those who are suspected of doing it."

"Love is weird; I used to see it in my parents when I was a child, I see it now in couples that come here or Arita-sensei. But I've come to understand we are all particular or strange; it just comes down to finding someone equally particular or strange to be willing to put up with us so that we put up with them. Well, that would be the ideal—there are many who aren't well-balance and end up unhappy."

"You have a very unique way of seeing it."

"It's true though, isn't it? Sure, love isn't just that but…a big, everyday part of it is. If a couple can't stand each other about the small things, then it's hopeless because the big things are nothing but small things stacked one after another."

"So if every little thing matters then what about those pet peeves you can't help but hate?"

"That's why you have to make a choice! You can't just marry the first…person to ask you." She suddenly realised the conversation was going to turn awkward; she could be really heartless when she stopped paying attention to what she had to say, and for the oddest reasons she always felt comfortable in saying whatever the hell she thought about to him.

She coughed to cover up the awkward stretch of silence, but it didn't work.

"Who was that asked you to marry him first," he asked out of the blue, truly curious. He could distinguish a general feeling of disdain coming from her on the concept of marriage, even before he'd asked her. So who was it that gave her such a bad impression or experience? He noticed she was looking away but was neither shame nor shyness. She was…angry. It was the sort of anger one feels no matter what, that comes from a powerful memory, from something one can't change. Apparently, it was a self-control method because she nearly broke the bottle she was pouring him sake with, out of nerves alone.

"There was this man when I had just inherited the ryokan. His name was—is Makoto Asahi; he lives in Osaka now. He was close with my father but much younger, only twenty five when he died. He made me an offer of marriage about a year later to which I replied I had to think about it and of course he was willing to give me all the time I needed; Reika-chan was very excited. But Arita-sensei kept telling me to say no. Then one day Asahi started accusing Arita-sensei of wanting me for himself and whatnot but he did it very subtly, like I was a fool for not noticing.

I kept thinking about it for three months till I finally decided to reject him when I realised it'd been two weeks since I last saw Arita-sensei, the _one_ person who I considered family, and it was all because of him. To this day, I've never seen a man go off like that! He tried to beat me into saying yes but when he saw that wasn't an option, he swore and made threats that he actually realised later on…! But it was nothing I couldn't handle. Still, I thanked Arita-sensei **and** Buddha I didn't end up married to that person!"

"He sounds horrible…" At the back of his mind, he was already cataloguing him. "But three months? It only took you five seconds to turn _me_ down; have you been practising or does that mean your answer wasn't final? Do I still have a chance? In that case, I'll ask you again—."

"Saito, don't tease me like that; and when I said better luck next time I didn't mean next time you ask _me_, but another woman! Please ask another woman…"

"I don't want another woman." Good gos, he said that very sexily. "And I never said I'd quit just because you said no. Marry me."

He was smirking but she could see he was honest; she huffed. "You make it increasingly difficult to keep this from people, you know. Someone might hear you. And no; better luck next time."

"I'm sure Arita-sensei would be rooting for me if he heard."

"He knows, he's the only one I've told; he's on your side, regrettably," she murmured.

He would thank him for that one day in a very grand manner. But there was this question he wanted to pose. "You keep mentioning him so I have to ask: what is Arita-sensei to you other than your family doctor?"

"We aren't blood related, but we are family. Ever since dad died he's been the only one left to take care of me, even when I don't need it. I used to call him "uncle" when I was a kid but he told me to stop because it made him look older to the ladies and call him "sensei"; so it stuck and I call him sensei. But he's like a godfather…he's very concerned." She giggled. "He also had a major crush on my mum, but he was twenty then and she was about fourteen years older. We all knew in the family; we pretended not to notice for his sake."

"I have to be honest; I too thought he might be interested in_ you_, but then I came to the conclusion he acted more like an overly protective father than a lover."

"Please! Arita-sensei changed my diapers…anyway, what about you? You're undoubtedly the interesting one of the two of us. How have you been doing—and how come you didn't come earlier?"

"I couldn't come before the ninth and then I was stationed at Nijo castle; things took a turn for the worse, there was an argument, we ended up from Kyoto in Osaka and then Fushimi, patrolling every day." He took a sip. "But today was very productive; I allowed myself to indulge."

"I heard about the shogun going to Osaka and leaving the Nijo castle; there was a big falling out between you – the Shinsegumi – and the Mito clan, correct? Is that why you went to Osaka, too?" she glossed over the fact he referred to her as indulgence.

"How come you know these facts so well? Not many things got out…are you keeping an eye on me?"

"I just hear these things randomly," she lied not too dexterously, with her cheeks being so flushed "I work with a lot of people!"

"Are those people the shogun and Tokugawa Noriaki?"

"Why would the head of the Mito clan or the shogunate visit me?"

"Amazing how well you know that name belongs to that man;" he "complimented" "I know people from my unit that take more time to recognise him."

"I'm just good with names," she kept lying, blushing furiously. How could she admit Arita-sensei was providing her with the information that he took form the men he treated as well as one certain Okita who happed upon her once or twice…?

The conversation came to a standstill but it was relaxing. None said anything yet both knew when to look at each other so he could signal her for more sake and she'd do it eagerly. In the end, he put cup and chopsticks down, satisfied.

"Thanks for the meal." It was eleven. "I won't keep you; I'll go for thaa bath now."

"Alright. Goodnight Saito; don't leave before I see you tomorrow."

"But I have to leave early and I know _first-hand_ you tend to oversleep."

"I'll manage for one day;" she snapped, walking out of the trap he set for her "just don't go before I see you. Promise me."

"…fine. But not after half-past seven; I have to be gone by then."

"Great! Goodnight," she wished a final time, bowed and took the dishes to be washed.

When he was left alone, he sighed to himself, combed his hair with his fingers and grunted: "I really have developed a bad habit."

. . .

"Good luck Saito-san; be well." silence. "Best of luck Saito; here, have this." More silence. "There's a charm I acquired for you from the temple; it's protection from harm. Here it is. Good luck Saito-san."

After half a minute, she started running her hands all over her face in desperation. "Nothing comes out right!" her frustration apparent in the slightest move and high pitch, she scratched the sides of her face violently. "How am I supposed to give this to him?"

She'd been up half an hour now, trying on various kimonos to see which one fit better and rehearsing her words; she had put her hair up on some weird tangle and she thought she looked very pretty with her bangs framing her face and the colours of red, orange and yellow enveloping her.

"Mm maybe I should say nothing, just offer it. Yes, that's best." She looked outside. "I have to be going!"

Correctly guessing he'd be in the garden, she saw him sitting on a bench; surprisingly, Takeru was there next to him, talking. He was listening intensely.

"Good morning gentlemen," she said cheerfully "I see you're up and about early."

"I always wake up at half past six; you don't know because you sleep till eight!"

"Don't forget who pays your salary kid," she threatened "now go inside and make breakfast for the early risers."

He glared at her; she raised an eyebrow, daring him to oppose her. "Fine," Takeru snubbed, getting up from the bench "say your grown-up things then. I'm going inside. Goodbye Saito-san."

"Bye kid," he managed to say his farewell before he was gone. "Why did you send him away?"

"He's been getting lippy; he should try a little humility."

"You're keeping him in order I see," he chuckled out.

"Him, the girls, Arita-sensei; I'm burdened with the task of keeping everyone in line. You, too! Going off to dangerous places every other day, brushing with death casually…pf, each and every one of you, giving me more work to do all the time. Here; have this." She fished the omamori out of her sleeve and shoved it into his palm. "It's supposed to keep you safe—well, as safe as it can; it's only one charm. You probably need ten, but the monk at the temple said only one at a time for the same thing so regrettably you only get one."

She wasn't planning on giving it like this, she wanted to sound kind and considerate; she seemed hysterical or cranky at best…but her good feelings reached him anyway; she watched him inspect it for a long time – the shape was familiar, but it was so foreign that anyone would give it to him – and then tuck it safely into his robes.

"One is more than enough when it expresses your wishes. Thanks, Tokio." He gave a small nod. "If I knew you were so worried I'd be making an effort to keep you updated; but, those sort of services are only reserved for the wives, sorry, I forgot."

She wanted to hit him! Did she just imply she was acting too familiar with him or did he just make fun of her worrying about his safety? She'd swear if it was both she would murder him herself just so she'd know exactly where he was at and then she wouldn't have to worry. As he tried to hide his mirth, she tried to stop her fuming.

"Thanks for the meal. Bye Tokio, I'll see you again."

"I hope!"

She watched him go once more; why did that always hurt a little, no matter her anger? She was frustrated. She was getting more and more invested in his well-being without even wanting to. She tried to pass it off as unimportant but no luck. He was somehow dragging her into this besides her will. She didn't want to be put in this position and care for a man who was always next in someone's line to die! She had barely thought about him this past month – she just went to the temple for the omamori, found a room for him and kept it clean and asked Arita-sensei for any news about the Shinsegumi – but the moment she saw him, all the repressed feelings came up! How was he? Where had he been? Where will he go next? What if something too dangerous even for him happens? She turned around. She shouldn't think like that; after all, this was why she turned him down. She would put him out of her thoughts for good…or at least till he returned again, just like the previous time.

Yet somehow, she knew this once it'd take much longer to see him again.

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**A/N:** The end is near.

Lol, that seemed too grave, sorry; but next chapter is practically the end of their journey to actually being together. I may(read: most definitely will) post a fluff family-centred ninth chapter. Anyway, I just wanted to make this note: I see Tokio as a selfish, kind woman. Also, a practical one. That being said, is she in denial...? Eeeh, yes and no. Saito has always been serious but never really showed it to her till now so it was a big reveal. She also has to come to terms with her feelings in her own time. Anyway! Please leave a review and tell me what you liked or didn't like!


	8. Final Chapter, chapter 8

**A/N**: FINAL CHAPTER! Oh god, I can't believe I started and finished a story in such a short amount of time! You're the greatest audience, thank you, you truly kept me going. Thank you for all of your support - faves alerts and reviews - it means a lot.

All historical facts mentioned are true and mostly correct; excuse the date spam but I'm a sucker for that while the passage of time is actually crucial in the mechanics of this chapter.

Huge chapter is huge!

I don't own RuroKen.

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Saito was faced with many dangers while he was away: still in Fushimi during the outbreak of the Boshin war, his presence and the presence of many others like him – Shinsegumi – there, was what instigated the opening skirmishes.

The battle of Toba-Fushimi took place in January, leading to the decisive defeat of the shogunal forces. The death toll was high on both sides and many were injured but the ones more hurt by this battle were definitely shogun's men and the Shinsegumi itself. Their leader, Kondo Isami, was injured, Saito was injured, even Okita; they were driven back from Kyoto to Osaka where another fierce battle took place. They tried to defend the castle but it eventually fell…still injured and their strength cut in half, they were happy to escape with their lives.

The war might have changed fronts, but Kyoto was no peaceful haven: people fought on the streets any time of day, assassinations were carried out in the open even more frequently than before and everyone was constantly on their guard. The relative calm they enjoyed was no more than a memory. And the injured men from the battles kept rushing in the capital like flooding water, making up more than five percent of the populace by now.

The Takagi ryokan had slowly transformed into a hospital: it started out with Arita-sensei requesting a room or two for his patients. He was a good doctor and an even better surgeon with his firm, steady hand and unprecedented un-queasiness to blood; while his no-bullshit attitude towards the patients made him famous among the men. By the time they reached January 17 there was a small handicapped army at his practise. The difficulty lay in keeping both patriots and shogunal forces civil enough not to kill each other but the silver lining was they were all injured thus less likely to get up. Those who started fights or even attempted bloodbaths were immediately ushered elsewhere.

The overflowing of patients led him to seek help from Tokio, who wasn't at all inconvenienced. She had taken to sheltering people who came from the war and needed a place to lay low for some hours, or even a day. She even had enemies stay in the same section without ever encountering one another. The doctor saw her usefulness but acted only when he needed.

She relinquished most of her inn – all but half the rooms of the staff, her own and the one she'd reserved for Saito – to the services of the wounded. She'd laid all the beds she had at her disposal and then some, while she and her staff constantly cooked and provided orderly services. The inn had no guests anymore; those who remained only did so to help. The income came either from whatever payment the injured ones could provide or the charity of the richer people. Her own stash of money was touched but not spent entirely.

"Take these men to the left room; this is the shogunate's wing, don't let them mingle."

She'd learnt to tell the difference as the days went by just by looking at them; if she relied on their answers, she'd have been fooled many times. But their clothes and accents set them apart. As she pressed down on a man's open chest wound to stop the blood from spurting out in a fountain, she had her sleeves pulled up. The plain red kimono she had on was preferable because that way the stains from the blood wouldn't be as obvious.

She had become quite good at this, treating people and making quick decisions. She always prioritised well but under these extreme circumstances, her mental reflexes were honed. Also, with her training at Aizu, she had taken extremely well to the duties of a nurse; the doctor even let her perform stitches when necessary after he personally showed her how to do it.

She regretted not following this line of work from the start.

"Tokio-sama," Satomi, one of the three ladies of the kitchen, appeared at the door "it's been a while since you last had a break; in fact, it's been more than half a day. Why don't you come eat?"

It was too big an oddity for Satomi to come in a room with patients; she was squeamish about blood and other things exposed. Tokio had missed meals before, too, but not once did she personally come to remind her…there was something going on that she should know about! She could see it in Satomi's worry—it wasn't the usual motherly vibe, but something urgent. Nodding she understood, she hastily said "I'll be there as soon as I'm done."

It wasn't for another five minutes that she could leave – with her conscious clear – but as soon as she did she headed to the kitchen immediately. She barely had time to wash herself though so she wiped it all on the kimono and then on a damp towel. She came to love her plain red kimono.

She made it to the kitchen after ten minutes in total; the towel was still in her hands. "Satomi-san, what is it that you...need me…?"

A man at tall as her came out of the shadows. His hair was caught in a band high on the back of his head while the familiar cerulean-white combination of his hitatare shone in the candlelight. He was clutching at his stomach and red ran through his fingers. But the face, now twisted from the pain was just as familiar. She left her bloody towel on the counter, barely managing to hold it.

"Okita-san!"

She rushed to him. But just then, another person came out of the shadows, much taller and way, way more familiar. Her eyes grew even bigger. "Saito!"

She kept looking between the two of them lost yet concerned; Okita was wounded seriously but Saito seemed in a better condition, though not all that great. "How can you be here? You were in Osaka; the castle fell two days ago!"

"We haven't stopped running since," Okita explained with a very tranquil, disconcerting smile.

She mentally scolded herself. "Satomi, get Keiko and go close every single door facing the eastern hallways; I'll get these men in Saito's room but it's important those doors stay closed so no one sees them."

She nodded and flew immediately! "We'll wait for a minute and then follow; if anyone sees you there'll be a new battle breaking out in here. It's obvious why the patriots shouldn't see you but if men on your side do, their morale will pick up and someone will eventually put two and two together…but you're hurt and in no condition to fight anyone—especially you, Okita-san. Just what happened in that castle siege?"

Her question would remain unanswered, as she motioned for them to follow her; Okita was in such a bad shape, he had to be supported. "I'll do it; you look better but you shouldn't aggravate your body."

They limped all the way to the room; it wasn't in the pristine condition it had been the previous time, but considering everything it was great. The moment they walked in she put Okita on the bed and rushed to get another one out. "You lie on this one" she ordered Saito "I'll go bring Arita-sansei."

Her heart was about to beat out of her chest while her brain worked overtime. She was so relieved to see him alive, she couldn't put it in words…even if she wanted to. Time was of the essence. She found Arita-sensei bent over a man whose leg was in a bad condition ever since he'd arrived; he was checking for any signs of improvement. That was fortunate! It meant no one was immediately dying and she could steal him away. She hunched and tapped him on the shoulder.

Oh no, other people were listening. She had to be convincing and inconspicuous for this to work. What to say…? Ah of course! "Arita-sensei, can you please come with me?"

He turned to look at her. "Is it something serious?" She looked down at her scar, nodding with her head. She pretended it to grip it with pain. "Your injury is acting up!" she hushed him, supposedly ashamed. "I'm, I'm coming right now; give me ten seconds."

She bowed and discreetly moved away; the pros were the man Arita-sensei was treating believed her. The cons were Arita-sensei believed it, too. "Follow me."

"You shouldn't be walking so fast, Tokio!" he didn't shout but anyone could see the reproach in his body language. "I know you're shy but you've seen many people undressed by now; it's no big deal if they see some of your skin, too."

She rolled her eyes. "Please just follow; please. I'm very tired."

The guilt trip worked; hopefully he wouldn't pay her back after all this was over.

"Tokio-chan," he began pacifyingly "I know you're worried about Saito; but why are we in front of his room? Yours wou-…"

She rolled her eyes again as the door opened and pushed him inside; the moment he laid eyes on the two occupants, he stopped talking. He straightened his back and began individual assessment. "I'll go get fresh towels, clean water and my tools; you prep the one worse off."

Tokio sat next to Okita; her eyes ran all over him. Other than the very obvious, very painful wound on his stomach there didn't seem to be anything else important; good, there would be only one point of concern.

"_He_ is the one worse off, right? You aren't hiding some sort of gaping wound under all that fabric?"

"He's a priority," Saito agreed.

The first thing to do was to remove all of the clothing from his upper body, or at least that which was covering his injury. She untied his hitatare till only skin remained. With a start, she saw the wound was already dressed; she took out a dagger – she learnt to carry them everywhere for her own safety – and ripped the bandages.

Okita coughed and she saw blood. "You're…very good with that…Tokio-san."

She tried to remove it as pain-free as she could. "Don't speak Okita-san, or else I'm doing this for nothing." His smile was his reply; good, he heard her. "You think I'll convince you to sleep, too?"

"You're pushing your luck," Saito commented in his stead; she chuckled.

"At least you have good friends, Okita-san. See? Saito is still not lying down in his bed as I told him; instead he clutches his sword, sitting in the most comfortable position to launch a surprise attack from."

"Oh, I've been found."

"Like it was hard…!"

She kept looking at him; she knew she had to be concentrated solely on Okita but she couldn't help but glance his way. He carried his comrade, he wasn't limping, and he was sitting up; he didn't appear to be in too much pain. He could still tease and smirk so he must have been in a good condition overall. But she couldn't help it; she had to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her. The more time passed, the less she trusted them and the more she glanced at him.

"Ah!" she closed her eyes upon seeing Okita's injury fully; it was very deep and very bad. She'd seen worse, like missing limbs, but this wasn't too far off on the horrible scale. If they had delayed it a little more, he'd have turned septic. Arita-sensei chose the perfect moment to walk back in.

"To work," he told himself, more than anyone, and left his tools next to him. Satomi and Reika came in after him with hot and cold water and a lot of fresh towels. "Leave them next to me. You can go; thanks." They bowed once – Reika gave Saito a meaningful stare – and left. "Tokio-chan, clean this for me please."

As her hands worked on getting rid of the blood covering Okita's wound, Arita examined it thoroughly. "Thank you; I'll take it from here, you go take care of Saito."

She didn't even pretend to feel ashamed that Arita-sensei noticed her concern; she dropped whatever she was doing and went to his side. She took the hot water and a towel with her.

"Can you take off your clothes?"

"…I think."

As she inspected him more closely, she could spot the little things, those minute movements she couldn't from so far away: he was sitting up but he was stiff like a statue; his fingers looked to be a part of the sword than of his body. His wit was quick but his reflexes were slowed. Even his eyes were bloodshot; with his sharp features, the black circles seemed even more pronounced. The edge of his lip, his sleeves and small parts of his clothes were spotted with blood.

"I'll help you anyway," she decided to say, not to hurt his pride; he had enough things to be hurt about.

Trying to be as gentle as possible, she first took the katana away and put it right next to him. Always at arm's reach, accessible so he could feel more relaxed. Slowly, she untied his hitatare; she moved behind him and carefully took the shoulders off. His back was still unharmed. She felt relieved, as if the rest of him wasn't shredded. Unfortunately, she couldn't get the garment past his shoulders because the way it stopped for a moment showed her blood had dried there while he was still wearing it making the fabric stick.

She moved at the front again where she could see the spots; as softly as she could she removed the fabric from the wounds one by one. She would proceed only when she was certain the pain from the previous one had ebbed away or the small bleeding had stopped. She was extra careful not to touch any exposed injuries but that wasn't easy—they were so many of them!

She didn't dare look him in the eye during the whole process; she was far too focused and emotional. But she caught the miniscule twitches of his mouth or the swallowed cries of pain or how he wouldn't stop staring at her no matter what. Her hands trembled more than once. There was that inexplicable feeling of closeness again, of veiled eroticism masquerading as seduction...but she was only trying to be helpful! There was something wrong with this man in particular, because she certainly didn't notice anything of the sort with all the rest she had to undress!

"Tokio, I need your help," the doctor snapped her out of it "we need to make him sleep."

"On it," was her rapid response. Just what she needed to shake this off!

When she put Okita's head in her lap and started massaging his temples he realised what she was doing and why but…he felt an overwhelming pang of jealousy; it was small, but somehow overwhelming. She looked so focused and attentive but it wasn't about him anymore. He felt like a worse person for being jealous of Okita, but he couldn't fight it. Thankfully, she came back before he had to think about what this meant or else he would have to ask how she knew his name, too. After all, Okita was the first one who appeared but she recognised him just fine.

He tried really hard to stop thinking like that and savour her attentions.

She huffed.

"Why are you not lying down?" she lightly pushed him on his back, an example he followed on his own. "Better." She cracked her fingers and started counting open cuts. "You may look better than he is but I think you're much more hurt; some of these are healing already, but they are undoubtedly fresh." She looked at him appalled. "Your mother is lucky not to be around to see this; she'd be worried half to death!"

Five out of…too many to count wounds needed stitches.

"Lucky I'm an orphan then."

She slapped his forehead vertically, as lightly as she could but enough to feel it. "Don't sass me; I'm the one who has to sew you up. Ah yes," she turned to her right "Arita-sensei, I need needle and thread; you don't mind?"

"Take it."

Stretching her hand, she grabbed his "tool" box and slid it to her. "I can't believe you were hurt so much; were you on the very first line?" Meanwhile, she prepared her tools. "I mean, Okita is just stabbed and it's over—you have numerous cuts that almost _turn into_ stabs; the sheer number is preposterous. You hack away at people but people hack away at you. I guess I should be thanking Buddha you are faster than your enemies."

She had started with the first deep cut; it was adjacent to an old one, forming a "T" shape. She frowned. "I was wrong; you need a hundred of those omamori things if they are to work! Or maybe when you defy them they stop working altogether? That would explain…you! Unless this is the result after their protection."

There was a pause; she huffed and puffed but didn't say anything else.

"Are you quite finished?"

"I still have four more to go."

She spoke so accusingly, so irritably, she even blew air out of her nostrils audibly. Somehow, he found that adorable. He had to tease her.

"I meant your complaining…"

"Oh I'm sorry," she started turning redder with each word "I didn't know my _concern_ was so irrelevant! Fine, I won't say anything else; go kill yourself next time; I'll respectfully burry your body. Don't worry; I'll make it a point to be silent."

Though her movements didn't translate her turmoil, it was obvious in her scowl and the tightness of her mouth. She was almost pouting. But he didn't want to hurt her. "Don't be like that; I need something to pass the time."

She slapped his forehead again though more force was put into it.

"Tokio; stop hitting the patients," came the stern admonition from the doctor.

"But he deserves it." She looked at the subject of her anger. "You do," she assured him, in case he was wondering. "This is why people like you die young. You have NO sense of danger."

"I thought that was why you've been keeping me at arm's length; what are you getting so upset about?" He had seriously started getting twitchy. "You knew that from the start."

Her colour changed from purple of wrath to crimson of shame. "…so what? It's still not healthy! I'm just trying to offer a piece of useful advice so you get to live more than a quarter of your life! Is it wrong I'd prefer you stayed _alive_?"

"If you wanted me to take such things under consideration, you should have married me; but you said no to that, didn't you? Then _why _in earth are you lecturing me on how to live my life if it doesn't affect you in the slightest?"

"Oh, you only listen to people who are in some way attached to you? You have some sort of debt to Okita-san and you listen to him?"

"And they say _I'm_ the one who always has to be right…or have the last word."

"Yes you are; you just said that so you can have the last word! I, ugh…I give up. You should really stop talking; it helps with the healing process, too."

"Yours or mine?"

She controlled herself and didn't slap him a third time. "You are so infuriating!"

"You're one to talk."

She let out a high pitched sound of frustration, stopping the stitching for a split second. "This is it, this is exactly it; I knew I was right."

"About what?"

"None of your business; it was directed at Arita-sensei."

"Don't drag me into this," he rejected participation immediately "or else I'll say things you don't want him to hear. Work this out on your own."

"_Traitor._"

"What things? And what were you right about?" If he hated something that was being kept in the dark. "Explain."

"No; **live with it**."

The offense…! "Fine."

"Fine," she repeated superior.

Silence prevailed; she kept working on him with the most emphatic scowl on her face while he just lay there boiling. After a while, she was finished; she didn't move away though, she started cleaning the rest of his cuts or the dried blood here and there. Arita-sensei had finished with Okita but she was still going; her motions were deliberately slow. And still none had spoken a word.

"Okita's treatment is over but he needs to rest…which is why I'd appreciate it if you attempted to solve this civilly or at least _quietly_." They both looked at him annoyed. "Or you can change rooms. Bye now."

The climate was very cold. It was unexpected because only a moment ago there was such tension and warmth he could swear they'd finally do something and be together. But it went south too fast; he walked away, not to make things worse.

"I'm finished, too," was the first thing she said to him after all that "I can leave if you don't want me here."

Tch, pushing the decision on him; why did he have to be the one to back down first? If she didn't _want_ to leave she should simply ask him if he wanted her to stay. But no, her ego wouldn't allow that. What, he didn't have one just because she rejected him twice? He turned to her, cross. He stopped though. She was looking away from him, humble and sheepish, not at all how she sounded. Oh? Was that her reaching out?

"…don't leave."

"Alright. You..." She went to say something, but it died out. "I…" she stopped again.

You are right, was what she was going to say; I was wrong to lecture you I have no place to do that.

But they wouldn't come. Before, she was so overcome by her own anger, her own concern that even when she understood he was the one who was right, she still couldn't hold back her torrid remarks. After all, her own views felt so irrelevant, it pained her. But she knew it shouldn't have! Really, she was the one, who decided to stay out of his life, he was completely right.

But why did it hurt? "I'm sorry I yelled at you," she said in the end.

"I'm sorry I sounded cold; I didn't want to be."

"Me neither." She tried to say something again, but failed for the umpteenth time!

"I understand why you vented though; my body looks as bad as it feels like."

"…I too understand why you were cold. It's not my place to have a say in how you choose to live your life; I should respect your choices."

"Tokio-san is so naive," a voice coming from their right interrupted their apologies "she still hasn't told Saito-san how she knows me…" Like fish hooked on bait, Saito looked at the supposed-to-be-sleeping Okita, trying to sit up as much as possible.

She was surprised to see him move like that. "I…ran into him in the market," she started explaining "and he said he knew who I was to you. He knew everything about Yato and those other guys so I figured he was your friend." She stopped for a second, to fight her developing blush. "He said I could come by the station if I was ever, um, curious about…" Ugh, she couldn't say it. She noticed him looking at her and felt even more uncomfortable; she turned away. "If I was ever curious about how you were doing or maybe tell me a thing or two about any assignments; only harmless information of course!"

Just like that, all of his vexations disappeared. He just stared at her and his expression was so raw that made her stop and stare, too. He…was no longer upset with her. He hadn't realised that that little pang of jealousy had caused _all _this; how near-sighted of him. Was he so jealous they knew each other that he let it bother him to this extent? Why didn't he notice? That's right; he was never jealous before. Well, he hoped next time he could keep it in check—it was corrosive.

"I see," was all he said.

"Who would have thought Saito-san was so possessive though? I was _only _trying to be a good friend to him, like he is to me by keeping Tokio-san in the loop…"

Ah, damn him; not only had he found the root of the problem but pointed out for her to see! And her searching for confirmation prove she caught on. "Well, Tokio-san is very secretive, too; I thought she had told Saito-san how she got the information last time they met, like I advised her to." Saito remembered exactly how she claimed she received her information; his crooked smile could kill. "Ah, I'm tired; I should stop talking in my sleep now."

He tried, but failed, to turn on his other side. Nonetheless, he pretended he was sleeping again; Okita was a very good friend.

Now, Saito knew Tokio liked him so he harboured a hope she might grow to be fond of him enough to wish to be with him; he knew he'd never settle for any other woman, so he was willing to wait as long as she needed. But when her concern about him seemed to be the same as her concern about anyone else, he was discouraged. Or maybe he knew he was somewhat special to her and the thought Okita had the same treatment made him angry. And when she disapproved his way of life so wholly, it pained him. It was a big part of who he was! And if it all stemmed from a lukewarm feeling of like, it hurt even more.

But this showed him she was already fond of him; she worried enough to ask people how he was doing and she was sensible enough not to tell him, because - like he so eloquently reminded - she knew she'd be acting out of turn. But this right here proved he had a legitimate chance with her.

"Will you marry me Tokio?"

She still had a small window; she could walk away from this emotionally undamaged. She started caring for him and now even _she_ couldn't deny it. But not all was lost! There was still a little time left before she fell for him. She cared, yes, but it was normal wasn't it? To care for a man you like, a person you consider close to you? It still didn't mean she was prepared to go through this for the rest of her life!

"…no," she refused with less conviction than ever yet still smiling "better luck next time."

Every time she heard about a death she wished it wasn't him; every time she learnt the shogunal forces were brutally stopped she hoped he was in one piece. And every time she took in people, she prayed to see him between the wounded, just so she'd know where he was. She was even listening in to the wouded people's talks when she was taking care of them for the chance that someone would mention him—and they did! Some patriots were saying how difficult he was to kill, like a goddamn cockroach; some of the shogun's men would wish to be in his company because, just like their leader, they too seemed to survive against many odds. Yet apparently everyone targeted him. It was a coveted title, to be the killer of the third squad captain – one more reason she decided to keep him hidden –.

And all of that was, frankly, exhausting. She would never _willingly_ feel this way about anyone…this would be the final time and from now on, she'd be nothing but a stop for him; he'd be nothing but another weary traveller that she got to know, once upon a time. This she promised herself.

"Do you mind keeping Okita and I in separate rooms?"

"No, but why?"

"He needs to rest, you heard the doctor. I should move out."

"Ah, of course." But one was supposed to know these people were here. Where would she put him? Oh no; she blushed at the thought that just crossed her mind. "Are you feeling well enough to walk?"

"Yes," he lied "take me wherever you think best." Ten minutes later, they were standing in front of a very familiar door. "You know, when I said best, I didn't mean the best room of the inn."

"Oh shush! This is the only viable option. Get in."

The smell that hit his nostrils was so pleasant; it brought back only good memories. "Since none other than Arita-sensei, the three kitchen ladies, Reika-chan and Takeru know about you two being here, you can't stay with the staff. The rest of the rooms are free for anyone to access so this is the only one left, seeing I sleep here alone. No one dares to come close—they tried once but it wasn't pretty. Takeru comes but he's allowed to."

She gestured to him to lie down; he did.

"Oh…does that mean we're gonna sleep together again?"

"Don't sound so misleading; we won't be in the same bed now. We'll just sleep in the same room…"

"Too bad; I really liked that arrangement."

"Saito-san!"

"I'm just being honest…"

"Hmm," she crossed her arms amused "anyway; you want anything to drink or eat?"

"Just plain soba."

"Plain soba, huh?"

"Didn't I tell you already? They are my favourite."

"I didn't believe you then, I don't believe you now. Be as it may, I will get you the soba. We don't have much else anyway," she added as a sad afterthought "and I should get some food to Okita-san, too or Arita-sensei will starve him to death."

She was back an hour later with his bowl; she informed him Okita was fed, too. Then she went on to tell him that she'd have to be going for a while, take care of the people but he was free to sleep whenever he liked. When she returned two hours later, she found Takeru in the room, playing with Saito's hair while recounting stories from the past month. Saito was already sleeping.

...that was so cute!

"Takeru, Saito fell asleep; why don't you go to sleep, too?"

"But who will mess his hair now? What if he wakes up?"

"He won't wake up because of that. Come on, go to sleep; it's late." She tried to make him stand, but he wouldn't! "Takeru…"

"But he was very tired! He needs the sleep; he couldn't get any though because he was very nervous. So I did what you do for me and started playing with his hair and he finally slept…I don't want him to wake up."

She smiled warmly; he was so considerate. "I see; I'll do it in your stead, how about that? You be a good boy and go to sleep after you take his bowl to the kitchen for mama, ne?"

Both Takeru and Tokio stared at each other for a second, equally off guard. "Alright," the boy mumbled happy and shy and immediately left as soon as she replaced him. This was the first time she ever referred to herself as his mother…and he took it better than she thought. It wasn't even what she had planned to say, it just flew out of her mouth. But he accepted her; she was so happy!

"Are you crying, Tokio?"

She gave a little jump. "I thought you were sleeping."

"I pretended to for his sake…are you crying?"

"No," she denied and literally willed the tears that pooled in her eyes away "I'm just happy."

"He practically called you mom so I guess you should be. See? I told you, you already are a mother." There was a small pause for appreciation. "Well, play with my hair _mom_; I want to sleep."

"I'll do something better, as a thanks." For what, she didn't specify. She just put his head on her lap and started massaging his temples. "Better?"

"Mmhmm."

_Oh yeah, great promise you made to yourself Tokio_, she snubbed mentally, _and what a_ _way to keep it_. Though in a way she was keeping it; she did for him whatever she'd do for anyone else with the same problem, even if a little more personally invested. Well, that couldn't be measured so…pff, right; she was in such a bad place. She should just do this for him now and from tomorrow on she'd act completely indifferent; no teasing, no meaningful glances, no nothing. Just as soon she was finished with this…

.

Next morning came too soon. Saito was half-aware, looking at Tokio: she had fallen asleep after him, but she hadn't really moved—she just fell on her right. She was sprawled from one side to the other, hands on his right, feet on his left, yet somehow his head remained in her lap…though it was practically one hip and half a thigh, still covered by her kimono. He had somehow turned on his side during the night too; all he could originally see was more of her legs and a sandal that had slipped off her foot.

He liked the view but after ten minutes, it became uninteresting; but he didn't want to move in fear he'd wake her…he was in a dilemma. He decided to do something completely different: under the guise he was still moving in his sleep, he brought her closer, a hand resting on her thigh. She didn't move her foot away. Good, he could actually change side now.

Just as he was about to, he heard something outside the door; he tensed. Was he found? The footsteps were barely perceptible when whoever was out there was directly behind the door—if they were being silent on purpose then something very bad was about to happen. His left hand immediately reached for the sword and his right for the scabbard; the door opened; the sword was drawn.

"_I come in peace_," came the doctor's silent but intense remark "_lower the weapon_."

"_I thought you might be someone else_…" He put the sword back in and lowered his body again into her "lap". "_I'd like to sleep a little more_."

Meh, he still didn't get to change sides.

"_What do you think you're touching? Stop groping her_!"

"_I'm not…!"_ Technically, he was. He gave in. "_Here;_" he made a show out of removing his hand and putting it in front of him "_what did you want_?"

"_It's about Okita_…"

At the same time, Tokio started stirring. This conversation was going to be serious; they might as well wake her, too. He sat up - thankfully his wounds didn't give him much trouble - and he shook her lightly. It took no more than three nudges this once and she was rising. "Mm, I'm up, I'm up; what is it?"

"The doctor would like to talk to us about Okita."

Her eyes snapped open. "Speak Arita-sensei."

"Alright…his wound is healing well, but it would be even better if it weren't for his tuberculosis." Tokio seemed profoundly upset and surprised when she saw Saito was perfectly aware of this condition. "He can't join another fight; it's too much for him."

The Shinsegumi sighed. "…so it's finally come to this. I see. Thank you doctor; I'll take care of the rest."

"As far as you're concerned, from what Tokio has told me, you'll be able to hold up a sword in a week. You're a resilient man, Saito. That's impressive."

"I try." None said anything. It started becoming awkward. "If that's all doctor…"

"Oh right; um, yeah, have a good day. And," he said from the door "Tokio I need you downstairs in half an hour tops."

"I'll be there." They nodded at each other and he left. "Oh dear, I am a mess," she exclaimed when she finally took a look at herself! She tried her best to fix her clothes and harnessing her wild hair.

"You're fine; stop for a moment and listen to me." His assertive tone worked. "You heard about Okita's condition. He's been like this for a while…there's nothing we can do, which is why I want him to live out the last of his days comfortably. Take him somewhere safe and keep him there. Then send me word where that will be."

"Send word…?" Her suspicions rose when she saw him tie his sword. "Wait, what are you doing? Are you _leaving_?"

"Yes."

"Already!? Didn't you hear what Arita-sensei said—a week, meaning at least five days? Not today! You can't just go off…to nowhere! Think about you health."

"I'm going to the Osaka castle and then wherever they wish to send me. I'll probably end up in Aizu if I know my commanders well but that remains to be seen. No matter though, send all of your letters to a Yamaguchi Jirou. It's my alias; one of them anyway."

"One of them…" Just what kind of man was he? "Alright; I'll send everything to Edo and I guess they'll forward them if you aren't there. But till this place holds, I won't be leaving. Okita will be safe here for as long as we stay. But don't go. It's risky."

"I can handle the risk; do you know what they call me?"

"Yes and I also know every living patriot wants to be the one to take your head; making a name as "immortal" in a war is very foolish. Don't leave."

He chuckled. She wanted him to stay! But he couldn't. "That title is a gift for you, you know...but I probably won't see you for a long time…"

"That's the least of-!"

"It isn't, not to me."

He liked how thrown she was by such an implied compliment; maybe he should pay her a real one. "You are very beautiful today Tokio."

He longed to take that strand of hair and put it behind her ear...and then it hit him. He was about to go behind enemy lines and then flee to Edo; this shouldn't be such a big deal. He reached for her face; her eyes followed his hand. She didn't – seem to – panic so he thought that was a good thing. He then took that unruly flock between his fingers! He wanted time to stop. He took the tuff and put it behind her ear yet his fingertips brushed her face; it was too soft on his calloused hand, but what a welcome change of texture!

He was so close, closer than ever. And when he looked at her properly he saw nothing but acceptance in her inquisitive stare.

He didn't want to stay another second! If he did, even one more, he'd be very tempted to remain here until that week was over and even then he didn't know if he'd make it. He turned away, side-stepped her as if she was nothing but a piece of furniture and left.

A moment after he was gone, she released a deep breath; she panted. Her heart beat so fast, it would leave her chest! From tomorrow, she'd said, she'd stop caring. Well, tomorrow came and for all it was worth she didn't. Unless she was talking about her breathing...she put a hand on her heart. From this day forward, she vowed not to think of him again.

=:=:=:=:=

It was the fourth of April that she sent Takeru to Edo before her. Arita-sensei decided to go to Aizu where he was from. She followed Takeru on the tenth of April after she made sure all of her staff was safe. Reika-chan and of course Okita went with her to Edo.

News of Kondo Isami's death reached them a day after it happened. It wasn't too long after that Okita gave into his illness-two months later, on July the 19th. Takeru, Reika and Tokio all decided it was time to leave Edo for a more modern and surprisingly peaceful city, Yokohama. Despite the warring factions, as a city that first welcomed the foreigners, it had a relative tranquillity. It had even prospered! So, while the battle of Aizu raged, they settled in their new abode.

She was quick to make something of herself with her skills; she'd found a job at a local restaurant very easily, rising up to the ranks almost immediately. Of course, she helped women and the elderly with her unique skills, too. She refused to accept men younger than sixty though as she didn't want people to talk. At the same time, Takeru announced he wanted to be a doctor. Arita-sensei was happy to trade Aizu for a paradise such as Yokohama. He introduced himself as her father, again because she wished people to stay out of her business.

Around October of 1868 the fall of the Tokugawa was a fact; the Meiji restoration was established. Though there were still people fighting in the shogun's name – such as the republic of Ezo – they eventually fell. The death of Hijikata Toshijou became a well-known fact after the 21st of June, 1869.

Of course, before that, after the end of the Aizu battle, the forces there were captured. That included Saito, she knew it did! He himself had shown a very absolute judgement that he'd be sent there and the final battle is fought in Aizu? He had to be there…right? Arita-sensei was a doctor who saw many injured, but he hadn't seen Saito at all. So between August 1868 and September 1869, she had no idea what had happened to him.

Where was Saito? Was he with the others in Aizu? Or did he flee for the Ezo republic along with Hijikata that she knew he admired? Was he in a shallow grave somewhere, rotting in the ground…? Or was he still alive?

These were all questions she needed answers to!

She had promised herself, she wouldn't care though; his well-being didn't matter to her. That was what she kept saying to everyone, even Takeru, even herself, every single time they asked her about him. "I'm only writing letters to him to let him know what's become of his friend," she would repeat over and over, until it sounded convincing enough. Besides, she wrote a letter every two weeks, she got it out of her system, and then she stopped thinking about him in general till the time for another briefing arose.

After Okita died she wrote to Saito the news: where he was buried, how happy he looked to be able to relieve every one of the burden of caring for him – the idiot – and how he died with a smile on his face. In his final moments, he had found peace.

_How are you I wonder? You never reply so I don know if you even see these but I have this idea you do read my letters; I hope they keep you good company. I hope nothing too exciting is happening. I hope I get to see you soon enough to tell me your opinion in person._

That last sentence, she always wrote it, no matter what. At first she'd tell herself she put it there only to motivate him; even if she didn't really mean it, her repeating it in each and every letter might keep him alive. The more she wrote it though, the more she started believing it. Did she want to see him again, even after she promised?

What cemented it for her was the fact she kept writing to him even after Okita's death; it was the force of habit, she would justify it, it became a weekly ritual. But how odd that from once every two or three weeks she ended up writing every five says. And even that, she ignored it. What she couldn't ignore though was that one thing she started doing after January 1869 that Arita-sensei one day pointed out offhandedly. "Will you stop looking out of the window like that? People think you have a dead husband so much you sigh…!"

She was just waiting for someone to deliver a letter to her! If only one letter came her way, she would know he was alive and as well as one could be after that much fighting. She just…wanted to know he was safe.

And that was when it became clear. That bastard had wormed her way into her heart! For three months now, all she thought about was him! It was ridiculous; that one thing she didn't want to happen, care about him, did! He managed to sneakily crawl—no; it was the exact opposite! He literally paved his way to her heart with the corpses of those who hurt her and his own blood. She was mortified! When did it start?

She couldn't tell. For all she knew, she might have been in denial since the moment he asked her hand in marriage. But no, she was certain her feelings weren't that deep back then…maybe it was the distance; they say it makes the heart grow fonder. Or maybe it was the fact he was in constant peril and she could do nothing but pray for his safe return.

Whatever it was, she cursed it daily.

.

.

It was September 1869 when everyone irrevocably had accepted the Meiji rule and she realised she hadn't seen Saito for over a year and a half. In fact, it was twenty months as off today; he had visited her on the fourth of February 1868 and now it was the fourth of September 1869. Good god! It's been so long…and all this time, not even a letter, not a single line.

She wanted to believe he was alive but twenty months was a very long time. If he were, wouldn't he have come back? She knew for a fact he received all of her letters, certainly the ones she sent till August 1868; if he was alive, he would have dropped by. Certainly he would have taken the time to write a letter…

No, she should be positive. He was alive.

But if he was then he had no reason not to visit or write to her. Unless…unless he didn't care anymore. Maybe the distance worked backwards in his case; maybe he just forgot about her completely! What if, while he was dying in a ditch, some attractive young lady found and took care of him? What if he decided to stay with her, after the war ended, a nice beautiful girl from Aizu? She heard – from Arita-sensei – they had true beauties down there, with silky black hair, flowing like the wind. Their hands were delicate; they even made the dirtiest clothes look beautiful. And all of that, with no make-up or effort…

She wanted to slap each and every woman she met that said she was from Aizu ever since she first thought of it! And it had been a solid two months. Certainly she never slapped anyone but she couldn't help it but feel side-lined. In her mind there were only two options: he was dead; he was never coming back because of some Aizu beauty. But, despite all of her pride, she hoped he was happily living his life with another woman rather than the alternative. After all, if he felt he had no more future with her, it was all her fault. He asked her hand in marriage not one, not two, but three times and he was rejected. What else could he do?

.

On the twelfth of September it was still warm; she was even wearing a yukata. Takeru was over at a friend's while Arita-sensei had finally found a woman worthy of him and was spending his time with her. They had left her alone. She felt left alone anyhow.

She was also feeling unsettled. Something was going to happen today and it would probably be big. Maybe the foreigners would launch an attack on Yokohama—with her luck, she even expected an earthquake. She kept sighing and looking out of her window. She had a garden, like she had at her inn, too; it was green with some sakura trees planted here and there and even little ponds. Her house was big, and so was her garden, but she, the doctor and Reika-chan had worked hard for that. Reika-chan was going to be married soon though, so she would be leaving—case in point she was currently meeting the in laws.

Maybe that was it; she had this feeling because something would happen with the in-laws. What if they found out she was a former prostitute and tried to prevent the marriage? The groom knew, but she was sure the parents wouldn't take it as well.

"Ah, look at me, being silly; it's already one hour past midnight. She's been away since noon. If that was it, she'd have been back by now…ah I'm 23 years old, sitting all alone and talking to myself in front of a window. I'm turning into a spinster. It's not like I get no attention, but all the guys I meet are just…not good enough. Or maybe my standards are too high.

Damn Saito, it's his fault. When a person like that shows interest in you how can you accept anyone else? These people barely felt the war yet he was out there fighting for their sake in every battle; winner or loser, he still shaped this world. And he was always brave; and he is the smartest man I know. How can I accept a simple worker who isn't him?"

She stopped talking. She didn't want to say that out loud. By now, even Arita-sensei the most ardent advocate of Saito was urging her to move on. It had been nearly two years, he would say; she _had_ to move on. It's too long. If he hadn't come back till July, he never would. So why doesn't she accept one of the three men that asked her?

She would say so many things as a defence but the one thing that was the truth, she never said it: they weren't _him_. How could she say yes to anyone other than him? He deserved it the most…she felt so much regret it suffocated her. If only she'd said that goddamn word when she needed to! Maybe he would have stayed with Okita and her. Or at least he'd reply. Unless he was dead, which was what everyone believed by now.

She wanted to see him; she just wanted to lay eyes on him one more time. Married with another woman or not, in one piece or not, if only she could see him in a big crowd of people and know he was alive she would never wish for anything else.

A silhouette appeared at the far end of her fence; it was a tall figure. _As tall as Saito_, she added bitterly in the end. The unidentified person was wearing an oyoroi hitatare in dark colours. _He always favoured the dark ones, too_. But, the hair on this man was cut short; he was thin, and he appeared to have some trouble walking.

And then he opened the door of her fence.

He did what? She grabbed a lantern and lit it. She always had daggers on her person, ever since she'd turned her inn into a hospital, so she had something to protect herself with. The man was seemingly unarmed so she should have the advantage of range if anything went wrong. She rushed out at the veranda! With her lantern to shed some light on the occasion she shouted "hey you," while lifting it away from her face to-

She froze. Every single part of her body was paralysed. Even her heart joined the strike and for a moment time seemed to stop. The sketchy stranger had lifted his head to look at her and it was none other than Saito.

Her Saito.

The same Saito Hajime whom she was just thinking about, whom she's always thinking about. It couldn't be, could it? The closer he came, the more she was affirmed…or she was delusional and this wasn't even happening. She couldn't stop staring or start breathing. When he came close enough to touch, she saw him: he had dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks were even more sunken, making his features ever sharper as he smirked. The problem in his walking was another wound on his chest that had left a small impression on his clothes. And his hair was so short…!

He had changed so much, but somehow he was the same.

The moment he saw her worry, he grew serious. "Good evening Tokio" he said and she couldn't believe she heard his voice again "I'm home."

Those dreaded tears pooled in her eyes and all the wind got knocked into her a little too fast; the breaths she'd lost were making her heart work overtime! She bowed very deeply, loose hair hiding her eyes.

"Welcome home," she whispered, voice trembling.

She remained like that for a long time; it could have been minutes. But she didn't feel the passage of time, only her own crazy heartbeat that wouldn't calm down whatever she might have tried. There were the tears, too, that came in streams. Only when those stopped, did she stand, turning around immediately. "Please come inside."

Much smaller than her previous establishment, she accompanied him to a sitting room. She looked at him for a good minute. "Food, drink or sleep?"

"Drink; the best sake you can find…"

She returned five minutes later with a bottle and two sake saucers. She put them down as gracefully as she could and after seating formally next to him, she started pouring for the both of them. Her hands were shaking though; she must have spilled twice as much as she put inside. All she could think of was how this was not real—she was daydreaming. Or she fell asleep looking out of that stupid window and she was just dreaming. Because he couldn't be real, no way. After all this time...

He pretended he didn't see her inner struggle and let her finish with her saucer, too; they drank together. She hadn't stopped looking at him for a long time, even as she was pouring the sake, one more reason she spilled so much. Even as they drank her eyes were trained on him, watery, disbelieving. He only stole glances amused.

"This is fine sake," he praised the drink. "Was it Arita-…?"

She lunged at him! Both her hands wrapped around his body and wherever she could reach was fine as long as she _touched_ him and she felt himl! Her head was against his chest as if to make sure he had a heartbeat. It was constant and strong, just as it should be. After a short but filled with emotion silence she finally sobbed.

"Y-you're here-! I can't-"

More sobbing stopped her from saying anything else; all of her anguish was released in the form of new waterfalls. She wasn't hugging him as much as she was holding on to him, as if he was her sanity. Crying for what felt like hours, though it was only moments, her hands kept changing places or force, always tighter and tighter. Her nails were digging into the fabric so much it started leaving markings. Suddenly, she let go and turned her back on him, even if only 30 centimetres away. She was covering her face with her hands, shielding herself from seeing his reaction to her unacceptable display. But even, she couldn't move too away from him.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry; I'm acting so shamefully! But I can't stop these tears; they have a will of their own and keep coming. I'm so, so sorry I don't know…don't know how to stop them."

She proceeded to shake her head or wipe at her eyes violently while still hiding her face from time to time; she couldn't look at him ever again. She was being so clingy and she was actually crying in front of him. How could she allow that? This was all so overwhelming she forgot how to breathe properly.

"Idiot," he said abruptly "why are you crying like that if you aren't even family?"

She turned to look at him, but all she saw was his hand cupping her cheek; he wiped at her tears as gently as he could – it was a little painful, but she didn't even notice – and kept doing it for a long time.

"I know," she said through more civilised, controlled tears and sobs "we aren't family, not really. But I still ended up worrying about you. I'm sorry I shouldn't have I…I didn't want to but it happened anyway." She let a snort of laughter, resigned to self-pity. Her tears stopped. "I'm a worrier that's how I am; how could I ever be your wife? I'd be dead before you...! But I end up like this anyway I really am an idiot; I can't keep a simple promise to myself."

She put her own hand on top of his and just held it, leaning into it for support. "If I…or you...uh, if I ask you to ask me again, will you do it?"

She expected mockery, or at least a rebuke. She feared he might even tell her he came only to let her go...but then she saw him looking at her so lovingly it broke her heart. He smiled, sincerely, kindly. She saw him form the words.

"Will you be my wife, Tokio?"

She took in a deep breath, full of threatening tears "Yes." They spilled just as she closed her eyes at her answer. "I would love to be your wife."

He smirked. "Why?"

He was torturing her? She deserved it. "Because I love you."

"Hmm, I thought you might." She tried to glare but it came out more like a cutesy stare; he chuckled. "How lucky; I love you, too."

It was warm outside, but she felt another wave of heat taking over her. Her shaking ceased; she was just looking at him hypnotised. And then he did something very bold, much like his character: he came closer and closer, pulling her towards him at the same time; when he was just a breath away she closed her eyes.

His lips touched hers for a second. Then they were gone. But then they came back again and again; the higher the count, the longer the kisses. He was tentative at first but he grew increasingly daring. When she started responding to him, he finally took her face with both his hands, and brought her close. She hugged his neck, kissing back, still incredulous if this was fact or just a figment of her imagination. Didn't matter; she'd keep kissing him till she woke up or he grew tired.

Oh ho, she was certainly dreaming; when that kiss turned steamy, she was definitely not doing that, not her, nuh uh. She was far too prudent. She must have been imagining the whole thing: tongues roaming, hands grabbing, she was not doing it or allowed it to be done to her. A long time later – she didn't care when – she was lying in his arms, ready to sleep. She felt protected and she smiled again after a very long time; real or not, there was no doubt about one thing: she was definitely happy. She laid her head on his chest and let the sweet sense of elation lull her.

Next morning she woke up feeling refreshed! Oh, that was a wonderful dream…but sadly just a dream. When she opened her eyes she saw none other but herself covered with a blanket and Arita-sensei's box of medicine three metres away. There was a sweet sadness in that moment.

"Good morning," she heard Saito's voice on her right "you do oversleep! Anyway, Arita-sensei dropped by to leave his box and said he wouldn't be coming back today; you should have seen his face when I opened the door…" there was a pause. "He looked a lot like you do now. Are you okay?"

"…yes!" she rubbed her eyes. "I just…I thought I was dreaming yesterday! Thank god it's true."

"Mm, I had no idea you missed me so much; had I known, I would have listed you as my wife when they asked for next of kin."

"Speaking of which…where were you? Did you get all of my letters?"

"Yes; they kept me going." She smiled. "We were all in a temple as penitence for our crimes ever since we lost the battle of Aizu; we were pardoned only recently, which is why I took so long. We weren't guests to come and go as we pleased and since I couldn't list you as family, no one could tell you were I was. But as soon as we were allowed to leave, I paid my respects to Okita's grave and then came here."

"I see…you _are_ here again." She kept saying it like it was too good to be true. "Takeru will be ecstatic!"

"I don't know how happy he'll be to call me father though."

"Don't jest. That kid _idolises_ you. Even Arita-sensei thought I should move on and marry someone else but Takeru threatened me not to!" she laughed. "He is very fond of you."

"Wait, marry? You were made offers…?" There was his jealousy again, bubbling beneath the surface; she didn't notice, not right away so she made it worse by choosing to wave away like it was no big deal. "Tokio?"

"I work at a local restaurant; very big, very prosperous. I meet new people every day, it's only natural two or three will take a liking…" that was when she noticed, at how his eyes became small even if nothing else about him changed; she swore she could see him take mental notes. "But they were all travellers, passing through," she lied less than convincingly. "They are all gone by now…to somewhere I don't know."

"Yes, every traveller who asks a person to marry them, never mentions a destination." Oops. "Not to mention he just asks a random stranger they've only seen once or twice. That gives rise to the question of how flashy one _was _to attract such attention-!"

"Okay I lied they are residents here, alright? Just don't ask me their names."

He stared for a long time. "A restaurant you say? Why don't we go there and eat something?"

They headed for the exit, arms linked. They weren't married already, so it was inappropriate but honestly who knew besides them? No one. And she liked acting like they were married. "Like plain soba?"

"Oh yes, my favourite!" She was willing to believe him; she actually thought he started believing his own lie. "Also, you'll be leaving this place after we get married, so we can move in together. Is this house bought?"

"Yes but many are eager for me to sell."

"You don't seem upset I'm uprooting you."

"I lived in Kyoto, the heart of the country **and** the war. This town seems too quaint to me, I can't wait to leave."

"Oh? Where to?"

"I don't know, Tokyo maybe? At the outskirts...but somewhere close here because both Reika-chan is getting married and I know she'll be staying here for good."

"Mm, we'll see then."

A pair of young children, maybe thirteen, had stopped right in front of the house, watching the couple go. The one boy turned to the other, who was grinning like an idiot, and asked curious: "who's that scary guy with your ma'?"

"You have to ask? It's my dad, of course! He finally came back…"

* * *

**A/N**: And scene!

Woooow I finished it. If you were expecting a wedding, sorry. But oh dear lord, it's completed and I'm so happy. Please let me know what you thought about it, in total; all of your comments, critics etc are welcome. Btw, this may be listed as completed, but expect an extra chapter sometime, I'll be going through with the fluff. I feel like I just have to write it. Anyway, thanks for sticking around and I hope you had a fun and great ride like I did. Kisses~!


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